


Just a Small Step

by kattahj



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Ableism, Amputation, Character Study, Disability, Drama & Romance, Established Relationship, Homophobia, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants), Minor Carlos/Jane, Minor Doug/Evie (Disney: Descendants), Minor Jay/Carlos de Vil, Minor Uma/OFC, Multi, Past Child Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, United States of Auradon (Disney) Is Not Perfect, pretty much everyone will appear at one point or another
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kattahj/pseuds/kattahj
Summary: When Jay is seriously hurt in the middle of the jungle, Gil is forced to make a decision that will impact their lives forever. Returning to Auradon, they have to handle the rules of life there, as well as Jay's new disability, and it's made worse by the requirement that they hide their love.A sprawling tale of love, friendship, and what happens when the world isn't built to accept you.
Relationships: Gil/Jay (Disney: Descendants)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 22





	1. TOURNEY STAR IN TRAGIC JUNGLE ACCIDENT

**Author's Note:**

> Note 1: Thanks to twiceturned for the beta and Skaboom/purplehoodiesandleatherjackets for helping me along the way!  
> Note 2: Rating and tagging (what will be a) long fic is always tricky. I chose M because I feel that fits the general maturity level of the fic, but there won't be much in the way of smut. Likewise, there are so many characters making an appearance (from Descendants and general Disney canon) that I can't tag them all. Ask if there's any doubt!  
> Note 3: This is film canon only. I have made liberal use of the wiki and included things from webisodes and books when I thought they fit, but I don't feel beholden to anything else than the three films.

Jay couldn’t claim he missed Auradon much. His friends, sure, and the tourney games, but Gil’s company and the adventure of travelling the world more than made up for it. Being outdoors, in the rain or sun, always on the move and wearing whatever you wanted, never stuck in a stuffy classroom or having to be mindful of what others thought. New sights every day, and the one constant was Gil, with those arms, and that jaw, and a smile lighting up his dashing face, and yeah, Jay would never tire of that.

Still, there were certain luxuries he felt a pang of longing for sometimes, like showers. His swimming skills were improving, but sea water always left a sheen of salt on the skin, and when they left the boat and went inland on the inflatable raft, the brooks and rivers were usually pretty muddy. The fancy filters they’d brought from Auradon made the water serviceable to drink, but keeping themselves clean was another matter.

This latest river on a remote island hadn’t seemed very promising, half overgrown with vines and grass, air full of mosquitos, and so when they made it past another bend and found themselves floating into a large, crystal clear lake, Jay whooped out loud.

Gil turned around and grinned at him. “Race ya!”

They tore off their clothes and jumped in, Gil with a head start that meant he was already swimming away in long strokes before Jay got his toes wet. Jay’s only revenge, once he caught up, was to give Gil a thorough dunking.

“It even tastes good!” Gil said when he resurfaced.

“You’d better run it through the filters, just in case,” Jay warned him.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess it’s not Auradon standard, but, you know.” Gil’s eyes glittered along with the water drops in his eyelashes. “It’s nice.”

“It’s really nice,” Jay agreed and kissed him.

They scrubbed the sweat and grime off their own bodies and each others’, and then untied their hair bands and lay down to float on their backs while their hair soaked.

Gil’s hand drifted towards Jay, who took it in his own and pressed it against his lips. When he let go, Gil stroked his chest and continued down his stomach and further down.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Jay said, standing up in the shallow water.

Gil opened his eyes. “No?”

“How easy do you think I am?”

“ _Very_ easy?”

“A pirate has to work for his loot,” Jay said, trying to sound scandalized despite the smirk he couldn’t keep down. “Come and get me, pirate.”

He started walking backwards, and Gil, after a beat, stood up to follow. Jay kept moving, eyebrows raised, smile cocky, letting Gil get close but not quite close enough.

A sudden pain shot up from his right foot through his whole body, stealing his breath away.

“Jay?” Gil’s smile died in an instant, his eyes wide and worried. “What’s wrong?”

Jay clung to him with both hands. He tried to move his foot, but that only made the pain worse. “Stuck… on some… something.”

Gil gently helped Jay stand straight and then dove under to see. When he came back up, his face was pale. “Don’t move. It’s a tree branch of some sort. I’ll get the knife.”

“What are the t-trees made of,” Jay gasped, “f-fucking _iron_?”

He did his best to stand still while Gil fetched his pocket knife from the raft and proceeded to use it under the water, every hack of the knife against the wood causing new jolts of pain. Finally, the branch broke off and Jay’s foot, while still hurting like all fuck, was free.

Jay splashed ashore with Gil’s help and sat down, staring at the sharp spiny thing that had pierced straight through his foot. If it had been a tenth of the size, he would have called it a thorn. He crossed his leg and tried to pull the spike out, but a wave of nauseating pain made him stop. Anyway, it was probably better to wait until they could stop the bleeding.

Gil, meanwhile, hauled the raft in and took out the first aid kit from his backpack. The items inside seemed woefully inadequate, but Gil produced a bottle of disinfectant, some cotton swabs, two compresses and an elastic bandage.

“Ready?” he asked, and before Jay had time to answer, he yanked out the spike, then proceeded to clean and wrap up the foot.

Everyone on the Isle had done basic emergency care at one point or another. Even if you could get to the people with actual medical knowledge, the price was often too high to bother for things that would heal on their own. Still, Jay was impressed with how quickly and deftly Gil’s hands moved, as if they’d done this kind of thing so often they had developed a mind of their own.

Once it was done, Gil sat down next to Jay on the ground. “I think we need to go back to the boat.”

“That’s like a day away, and it’s already pretty late in the afternoon.”

“You’re hurt, and we have more medical stuff on the boat, let’s go back!”

“Okay, here’s what we’ll do,” Jay said, trying to keep his head cool even though it seemed ready to drift away. “We’ll fill up the water bottles, get some food, and camp here for the night. In the morning, we’ll make our way back. Maybe I’ll feel better by then. Okay?”

He squeezed Gil’s hand in comfort, and Gil nodded reluctantly. “I guess.”

* * *

Jay did not feel better in the morning. If anything, he felt worse. Every part of him was shivering except his foot, which was throbbing. There were some painkillers in the first aid kit, and while he waited for them to work, he whittled a crutch out of a sapling. That helped him enough to keep him going as they packed up the tarp and their other things, but the work made him dizzier than he cared to admit.

They’d cleared up parts of the river coming the other way, and now they were going downstream, but though the journey must have been faster than before, it felt a lot slower. Jay had to struggle hard to keep his oar in rhythm with Gil’s. He also drank more water than usual, but on the other hand, he ate much less of the food, and what he ate was doing somersaults in his stomach.

Jay’s foot was too swollen to put his boot on, and though he tried to keep it high, it still got wet and dirty, and the bandages bled through. When they stopped to eat, Gil replaced the bandages with new compresses, but there was no more elastic, so he tore up strips of his shirt to use instead.

“It’s not clean enough,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Cleaner than mine,” Jay said. “And don’t apologize. I’m the one spoiling the adventure.”

“Nah, man, I’ve had a great time with you! Seen all these places, the animals. Like that bird with the big beak.”

“The flying squirrels.”

“The blue frogs.”

Jay smiled a little. “No penguins, though. Wish we’d done the iceberg. I could use an ice pack around now.”

Gil handed him the water bottle and pressed a kiss to his sweaty temple. “I think we need to go back.”

“We are going back.”

“Not back to the boat. Back to Auradon.”

Jay wanted to protest. They were supposed to be gone for a year, coming back after only a few months with their tails between their legs would be anticlimactic to say the least. Not to mention, they’d lose their freedom. Sure, school was out and it was too late for university, so they wouldn’t have to deal with classes and uniforms, but they would still be expected to live by Auradon standards, boy and girl, ballroom dancing and moonlit walks.

But balanced against that was the enormous brick building known as the Auradon City Hospital.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Probably best.” He put an arm around Gil’s hips and pulled him closer, nuzzling in to kiss him under the ear. “Got to make use of the time we have.”

“Auradon is too damned prissy!” Gil agreed, tilting his head so the next kiss fell on his mouth.

Jay deepened the kiss and snuck a hand in under Gil’s shirt, ready to take this to the next level, but the new angle caused his foot to bump against the ground, and he hissed in pain.

Gil instantly withdrew. “We should wait until you feel better.”

Jay fell back and groaned. “That’s what I get for denying you in the first place. Payback’s a bitch.”

“I didn’t want that kind of payback,” Gil said gloomily. He stood up, gathered his things, and reached out his hand for Jay to take. “Let’s get going.”

* * *

Night fell before they made it to the ocean, but the skies were clear and so they kept going by moonlight, Jay doing his best to keep his paddling steady, though he kept getting winded. By the time they reached the boat, his shirt was soaked through, and his arms were shaking so badly it took a boost from Gil to get him onboard.

It was a relief to change into different clothes, get his wound cleaned once more, and go to sleep. The cabin bed was on the small side, and they usually slept curled up against each other. Now, Gil made an attempt to give Jay some more space, but Jay would have none of it.

“Too cold without you,” he murmured, hugging Gil tight.

“Too hot,” Gil corrected, hand brushing Jay’s face.

Jay flashed him a grin. “Don’t you know it!”

“You have a fever.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

The boat had a small generator, and for the first time in weeks they charged their cell phone batteries. Not that it was any use - there was no reception on the island. In the morning, they set sail for Auradon, and Jay took first shift at the wheel, figuring that Gil had done more than his fair share of work lately. They brought up the cooler so he could rest his leg on it when the crutch got too uncomfortable, and it worked pretty well.

Until it didn’t.

As the days went by, Jay’s dizziness got even worse, his eyes teared in the sun, and in the end, he had to admit defeat and go lie down in the cabin. Gil checked on him when he could, redressed his wound, fed him more painkillers and what little food he could keep down, and put a bucket by the bed for the other times. Gil wasn’t sleeping in the bed himself anymore. Jay didn’t know where he slept or even if he slept at all; he’d asked about it at first, but Gil had deflected.

Jay had to reconcile himself to the idea that he might come back to Auradon weak as a kitten and sweating like a pig. He couldn’t even bring himself to mind anymore, as long as they got there.

And then one morning, as Gil was undressing the wound, he suddenly got very quiet, and when he spoke again, it was in a half-choked sob. “Jay, I don’t think we’ll make it to Auradon in time.”

“In time for what?” Jay asked.

Gil didn’t reply, and Jay craned his neck to see - the swollen, unrecognizable foot, sheer black in places, and dark red and blue blotches going further up the ankle. He closed his eyes and fell back, swallowing the bile that rose in his throat.

“Oh, fuck.”

“I’ve seen wounds like this before,” Gil said in a shaky voice. “If the infection spreads…”

“I’m done for.” Jay tried to force his foggy brain to come up with a solution. “Is there anywhere closer than Auradon we could go?”

“Not close enough.”

“I’m guessing there’s still no reception?”

Gil scrambled to get the cellphone and disappeared up the ladder, only to return a moment later, shaking his head.

So, that was it, then. What a stupid, pointless way to die. After everything he’d survived, all the fights he’d won, to be defeated by accidentally stepping on a stick. He breathed slowly, bracing himself against the rising panic.

“Okay. First things first. I love you.” Jay reached out, and Gil took his hand, squeezing it tight. “You can have your choice of my stuff. Leave some for the others, Carlos and the girls, they might want something to remember me by. Lonnie can have the sports gear. Evie made most of my clothes, she can have them back if she wants...”

“What are you doing?” Gil asked, confused.

“Making my will. Should I write it down?” Of course he should, it wasn’t fair to expect Gil to remember. “Do we have a pen somewhere? One of the backpacks?”

“I won’t let you die!”

Jay gave a hysterical bark of laughter. “That’s great, Gil, but how do you plan on stopping it? Do you have any alternatives, because I’m dying to hear them! Gods - literally!”

“I have one,” Gil said quietly. “But you won’t like it.”

“What?”

“I told you, I’ve seen wounds like this before. I’ve helped out. I know how to…” He wet his lips. “At least I think I do. Yes. My hands remember. My eyes remember. I could use the axe - or maybe one of the knives would be better. There’s some disinfectant left, and rope, and the sewing kit, and I can boil some water.”

It slowly dawned on Jay what Gil was talking about. Gil had spent most of his life hanging around pirates. Pirates only had a few well-tried treatments for serious wounds.

“No. No, no, no, no, no…”

“Jay.” Gil grabbed both his hands.

“Don’t say it,” Jay pleaded, but of course Gil said it.

“I’ll have to cut your foot off.”

Jay let out a half-choked sob.

“It’s risky,” Gil continued. “You could still die. But… I _know_ you will if I don’t.”

Though Jay squeezed his eyes tightly shut, behind them he still had a vivid image of the present state of his foot. He longed with all his heart for a magic wand, or a genie, or anything that might get him out of this, understanding for the first time the full depth of their parents’ desperation. There was no magic, nothing to save him except a sharp blade and Gil’s meager experience. It had to be better than certain death, but he still curled up at the mere thought.

“I won’t be able to play tourney,” he said, opening his eyes to meet Gil’s anguished gaze.

“I know,” Gil whispered.

“Or run, or jump, or fight… or anything.”

“Course you will.” Gil took Jay’s face in both of his hands. “Remember Silver? You think anyone would dare tell that bastard that he can’t fight? Or Harry’s dad? Or any of the pirates who have had bits chopped off? You’re tough as nails, Jay. Always will be.”

Jay drew a shaky breath and nodded. “All right.”

The mere admission broke through the last of his defences and sent the tears flowing. He held Gil tight, sobbing into his hair, as Gil stroked the back of Jay’s neck like he was a lost puppy.

It took several minutes for Jay to regain enough control of himself to speak. “Please don’t tell the others about this.”

“What?”

“The crying. I want them to think I’m brave. I don’t want them to know how scared I was. Because I’m really scared, Gil. I’m really, really scared.”

“So am I,” Gil admitted, tears dripping down his face too.

Jay hit him lightly on the arm. “Asshole.” He laughed weakly through the sobs. “You think anyone wants their surgeon to say that? Just get it over with.”

Gil nodded and stood up, but halted with a frown. “I don’t have any drugs, or spells, or even alcohol. Just the painkillers.”

“Terrific. Over-the-counter painkillers are exactly what I need to get through this.” Jay sighed at Gil’s bewildered expression. Right. Sarcasm didn’t fly. “You’ll have to tie me down. I don’t think I’ll be able to lie still.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Gil rummaged about to get things ready, lit a fire, and fetched the tools - perfect for building an overnight shelter, woefully inadequate for an amputation.

Jay turned towards the wall, trying to push reality away from his mind.

“Jay?” Gil’s hand touched his back. “I may need to take the ankle too, to get rid of all the rot.”

“Just… take whatever. What difference does it make?”

“It’s harder to cut through bone than joints, so it’s more dangerous…”

“Gil.” Jay turned around, breathing as slowly and steadily as he could manage. “Please don’t talk to me about this. Just do it. I trust you.”

Gil leaned down and pressed an insistent kiss to Jay’s lips. “Don’t die.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jay said, offering as cheeky a smile as he could muster.

Judging by Gil’s expression, it probably wasn’t a very good one.


	2. TOURNEY STAR’S FOOT CUT OFF BY TRAVEL COMPANION

Jay had been hurt plenty of times in his life. Beaten up by older gangs on the street, or by his father back home. Cuts and sprains and even fractures from when he was learning his skills, first as a thief and then as a tourney player.

Nothing he’d ever experienced came anywhere near the blinding agony when Gil’s knife reached the bone.

Up until then, he’d had to fight his own morbid curiosity not to look down, but the pain extinguished everything else from his mind. His eyes screwed shut of their own accord as he screamed through the wooden spoon stuck between his teeth, and strained against the ropes that held down his body.

He must have passed out after that, because the next thing he was aware of was warm, firm hands wrapping up his leg. Then the pressure around his knee lessened, nerves and arteries awakening as the tourniquet was taken off, and his toes cramped up in protest. He frowned, and turned his head aside so he could spit out the spoon.

“Gil?”

Gil moved up into his vision, looking paler than usual, except for the blood spatter.

“What happened?” Jay asked.

“Don’t you remember?”

“You were…” Fuck, talking was difficult when your body was screaming in agony. “...cutting my leg off. Why’d you stop?”

“I didn’t.”

“But I can still…” The words _phantom pain_ drifted through Jay’s mind, and he tried to sit up. “Show me.”

Gil untied the ropes and helped Jay to a semi-sitting position, enough that he could see the big bandaged lump at the end of his leg. He let his head fall back towards the pillow. “Yup. Definitely off.”

“I’m sorry.” Gil lowered him down again and stroked his cheek. “Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s sunshine and rainbows,” Jay snapped and instantly regretted it. “Yeah. It does.”

“I can’t give you more painkillers for another four hours. Do you want some water?”

Jay very much doubted that a double dose of painkillers would prove more fatal than having a limb carved off, but he didn’t argue, just drank the water and then lay down, trying to get some semblance of rest.

“Okay,” Gil said, picking up the bucket from the floor. “I’ll get this cleaned up, and then I’ll be right back with you.”

Jay nodded, and then the realization hit of what was in that bucket. He swallowed hard. “Where are you… taking it?”

“I thought I’d wrap it in a towel and throw it overboard.”

“Burial at sea. Fitting.”

Their eyes met, and Jay could tell that Gil was thinking the exact same thing that he was, that neither one of them would say.

_Let’s hope it’s the only one._

* * *

Even when Jay was given more painkillers, they didn’t do much good, but at least his head wasn’t as foggy anymore. By mid-afternoon, his temperature had dropped, and Gil could finally be persuaded to sleep for a while.

It was a dilemma that didn’t get any easier as the days proceeded. It was vital that they got to Auradon as quickly as possible. By now, they were out on the open sea and running low on everything. They could manage without disinfectant as long as they had fresh water to boil, and without bandages as long as they had clean fabric of different sorts, but neither of those would last forever. Their stock of food was running low too, which meant the diet largely consisted of whatever fish Gil managed to catch.

But Gil also had to be the one to steer the boat, and to help Jay with _everything_ , up to and including the humiliating task of relieving himself. Most of the time, Jay was in too much pain to even move, much less attempt to keep balance on a rolling deck.

When Jay saw the dark circles grow under Gil’s eyes, he couldn’t rid himself of the thought that it would have been easier if he had just died. Then Gil’s only task would have been to get himself home, and he could have taken his time with it too.

One night, he told Gil as much. “I wish you didn’t have to put up with me.”

Gil shrugged. “You’ve put up with me. For months.”

“It’s not the same. That was a pleasure.”

“So’s this.” Gil grimaced. “Not a pleasure. But worth it.” Very carefully, he sat down on the edge of the bed. “People always treated me like I was… not. Worth it.”

“That’s ‘cause they’re assholes.”

“I’m worth it to you.”

“Yes,” Jay said, squeezing Gil’s hand.

“And you’re worth it to me. Getting you home may be the most important thing I’ll ever do.”

Jay bit his lip. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Gil teared up. “And I get to say that. You know?”

His voice was full of wonder.

Jay recalled years of keeping his guard up, always ready to throw down the first punch, never a kind word even to the people he would, in a later life, call his friends. The absolute anguish he’d felt, hearing Auradon kids talk about their families like they were people who they wanted to be around, who were nice to them and wanted what was best for them.

That wonder wasn’t anything he could take for granted either. If it was the only thing he could provide for Gil, perhaps it would have to be enough.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

* * *

They were long out of painkillers and on their last bottle of water on the day Gil rushed down the ladder, eyes sparkling and cellphone in hand.

“I have a bar!” he shouted. “Quick, what’s the number to the hospital?”

Jay had been digging his nails into his palms to keep his mind off his leg, but he still laughed at the sight of Gil’s excitement. “You don’t need to call the hospital.”

“No?”

“No. Call _Uma_.”

Understanding dawned in Gil’s eyes and he rushed back up.

Only a few hours later, there was a rolling motion underneath the boat, followed by a splash-thump from the deck that sounded suspiciously like tentacles. Jay grinned.

“The white knights are on their way!” Uma declared as she entered the cabin. “They’ll be here in a… holy shit!”

Seeing her expression, Jay wished he had zipped up the sleeping bag. It was too hot for it in the daytime, but that would have been more bearable.

“Sorry,” Uma said after a beat. “Gil told me, it’s just that seeing it for myself… shit, Jay, I’m so sorry!”

“Me too,” Jay said with a tight smile. “Hello, Uma!”

“Hello,” she said, gaze still drifting downwards. “So, um, as I was saying, the hospital sent out a motorboat. I put them in the fastest current, gave them an extra boost. Figured I’d arrange the winds for you, make sure both boats –” she clapped her hands together “– meet up as soon as possible.”

“Sounds good.”

She nodded and turned to leave, but paused, for the first time looking straight into his eyes. “Try not to blame Gil. He only… stuck to what he knows.”

Jay frowned. “I don’t blame him.”

“Good. That’s good.” She looked like she was about to say something else, but in the end only nodded and headed back on deck.

A little while later, the pace picked up, wind rattling the portholes. Soon, Gil came down, beaming with relief.

“Uma’s taking the wheel. It will be some time yet.”

“Okay,” Jay said softly. “You should get some sleep.”

Gil nodded and took his sleeping bag from the corner, rolling it out on the floor next to the bed.

“You can sleep up here if you want,” Jay suggested.

“No, I don’t want to bump you.” Gil lay down, reaching up a hand so Jay could hold it. “I’m fine right here.”

True to his word, his eyes drifted close as he spoke. Jay lay awake, watching the tension fade away from Gil’s body for the first time in weeks.

He had never been more grateful for Uma’s existence.

* * *

Once the ambulance boat arrived, it was only a matter of minutes before Jay was loaded onto it, with an IV drip that dulled his senses and finally let him relax. There was one thing that took priority over sleep, though, as he found himself surrounded by strangers about to take off for Auradon.

“Gil comes with me,” he said. “Let Uma take the boat.”

The nearest paramedic shrugged. “All right.”

After some shuffling, Gil came into Jay’s line of sight and grabbed his hand.

“I’m here! I’m here.”

Maybe it wasn’t the Auradon thing to do, holding hands in an ambulance, but fuck it if Jay cared.

They didn’t let go of each other until hours later, when the boat reached shore. Jay was carried outside on a fold-up stretcher that the paramedics quickly wheeled into a regular ambulance, and what seemed like only moments later, into the hospital.

Two people were waiting there. One was a man in a white coat, presumably a doctor, tall and broad-shouldered with dark skin and a shaved head. The other was Carlos.

“Hey!” Jay said with a grin. “Uma called you?”

“The hospital called me,” Carlos said. “I’m listed as your next of kin. I couldn’t believe it when I heard.”

“Yeah. Good to see you, though.” Jay would have loved to keep talking to Carlos, but the doctor stepped in, shining a bright light into his eyes.

“Jay? I’m Dr. Sweet. I’ll be taking care of your leg. Are there any other injuries I should know about?”

The word “sweet” wasn’t the first Jay would have come to think of for this man, but there were several other positive ones that came to mind: warm, reassuring, trustworthy.

“Don’t think so. I’m a bit chafed on the backside, I’ve been lying down so much. Everything else is okay. They gave me some great drugs on that boat. Water, too.”

“Mhm. I would normally say wait with liquids until after an operation, but you do seem a bit dehydrated. Let’s get you to X-ray. You two can stay in the waiting area.”

“No, hang on…!” Jay protested, but he was already being wheeled down a different corridor and only caught a glimpse of Gil catching up to Carlos, before he rounded the corner.

He was taken into a small room, where the paramedics lifted him over to a table and then left. The doctor started examining his leg, with gentle hands, but it still hurt like fuck, even with the help of whatever was in the IV.

“Hm,” Dr. Sweet said. “Could have been worse.”

“Worse than _gone_?”

“How long has it been since the amputation, a week?”

“Ten days.”

“Ten days in a grubby boat cabin. Could have been a lot worse.” The doctor gently lowered the leg and patted it a little. “Okay, I’ll set up the X-ray plates.”

“To see what? If it’s broken? That’s kind of obvious!”

Dr. Sweet chuckled a little. “You’re not far wrong. I want to see the state of the bone.” He started rummaging about and lowered the thing that looked like a giant lamp. “What was the initial injury?”

“I stepped on a stick. Actually, a knife-sharp giant thorn thing that stuck right through my foot. And then the wound got infected.”

“Could you identify the plant?”

“Nah, it was way out in the jungle, I don’t know what anything was called.”

The doctor kept asking rapid-fire questions as he took the X-rays, and Jay did his best to describe what had happened to his foot, though considering the fever he’d had, there was a lot he didn’t remember.

Not until the plates were up against the wall did the doctor fall silent, watching them critically.

“‘Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Jay hadn’t seen X-rays in real life before, but it was easy enough to tell what those shadows were, not to mention the abrupt way they ended. “What?”

“Okay.” Dr. Sweet sat down on a stool. “Bad news: I’m going to have to take off a few more inches. Good news, you’ll be feeling a lot better once I have.”

“Take more off? Why?”

“I need to shape the bone, fold the muscles over it, and get rid of some scar tissue. That way, we’ll minimize the pain and make it easier for you to wear a prosthetic, when that day comes.”

“So you’re saying…” Jay swallowed. “Gil didn’t do it right?”

The doctor’s eyebrows shot up. “Do it _right_? An amateur, in a boat cabin, with camping gear instead of medical equipment? I’m impressed he could do it at all. Kid’s a genius. He should be in med school.”

Jay didn’t think anyone had ever uttered the words “genius” unsarcastically about Gil before, but it made him feel a little better.

The rest of what had been said, however, made him feel worse. Which was ridiculous - what difference would it make to have his leg end a little further up his calf? Either way, he’d be…

One-footed. An amputee. Disabled.

On some level, he had believed that everything would be okay when they made it back to Auradon. Auradon had castles and chocolate and doctors that could see your insides without cutting you open.

And even if the people tried to ignore it most of the time, it had magic.

“Isn’t there any magic spell that could, like, regrow it? I know it’s not allowed, but since it’s an emergency… my friend Mal is pretty strong.”

Doctor Sweet sighed. “Lady Mal is a fairy. Are you?”

“Well, no.”

“Fully human?”

Jay’s heart sank. “Yeah.”

“Then no. Not really. Believe me, if there was, I’d be the first in line to petition the council to allow it.”

“But why? If Mal can turn into a dragon and Audrey could turn people to stone…”

“I’m not an expert in magic, but here’s how I understand it. It’s not too hard to make people act in accordance with their nature. Go this way or that, fall asleep, fall in love, grow old, die. And magical creatures have all sorts of wacky shape-shifting powers in their natures – but it’s not in the nature of human beings to regrow their limbs. Anything that completely changes someone like that is hard to make stick, even for a fairy. People can turn to stone, but they will turn back eventually. You can turn a pumpkin into a carriage, but at the end of the night, it’s a pumpkin again. So, yes, your friend Mal might be able to make you a new leg, but one day you’d wake up and it would be gone. Or worse, you’d be walking on it and it’d be gone.”

Jay wasn’t going to cry. He _wasn’t_. He rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes, just to make sure.

“What about Dude?” he asked. “My friend’s dog. Mal spelled it so it could talk, and it still can… at least I think it can. It was talking for months. That’s not in its nature.”

“Are you sure? Talking dogs are native to several of the minor islands. Maybe your friend’s dog had a grandmother from there, and Lady Mal just flipped the switch on a recessive gene.”

Jay wasn’t entirely sure that he understood how that worked, but he got the gist of it, and he scrambled for a counterexample, something to prove he still had a chance.

Dr. Sweet must have read his mind, which, frankly, couldn’t have been too hard.

“Listen. People have tried. A bunch of times. It doesn’t work. The only ones who can create a permanent transformation are a few of the immortals, and they don’t answer to humans. They’re more likely to curse us than help us.”

“Unless they’re forced to,” Jay mumbled.

“Sure. You got an extra powerful genie bottled up somewhere?”

The irony was too much – Jay burst into laughter, and the laughter turned into tears.

Dr. Sweet turned around and tore out a pile of tissue paper from the dispenser on the wall, giving it to Jay, who wiped ineffectively at his eyes.

“You don’t have to make a decision about the operation right now,” the doctor said. “In my professional opinion, you’d be better off having it as soon as possible, but it’s your decision.”

“No, go ahead,” Jay said, crumpling up the moist tissue paper. “Fuck, I told Gil he could, and he’s not even a doctor.”

“If it helps, he made the right call.”

Jay nodded slowly. It wasn’t much, but it was some comfort in this shit pile.


	3. JAY IBN JAFAR IN RECOVERY IN AURADON

“All right, that’s the anaesthetic. Try to count backwards from ten.”

“Ten. Nine. Eight….”

“...Seven.”

“Jay?”

Jay opened his eyes at the familiar voice, to find he was lying in a different room, a large one with white walls and bright lamps which somewhat countered the darkness of night outside the window.

Carlos was on one side of his bed and Mal on the other, with Gil off by the door, shoulders hunched and arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey, guys,” Jay said. His throat was dry, and swallowing didn’t help, but Carlos helpfully handed him a glass of water and he drank half of it in one go. “Thanks. I needed that. Hi, Mal. You queen yet?”

“Asshole,” she said softly. “Do you think I want to get married without you there?”

“Aw, you blew off a royal wedding for my sake? Can’t have made the in-laws happy. Or I guess they’re not in-laws yet. Outlaws?”

A smile lurked in the corners of her mouth. “They have been hounding me to set a date.”

“Ah, you see? You must be so happy that I’m back early, then.”

At that, Mal bit her lip and abruptly turned away to stare out the window. She obviously wasn’t crying, but whatever she was doing, it was just as unsettling.

“Jay,” Carlos said, sounding pained.

It was like being at a funeral, and he couldn’t stand it. He wasn’t dead, or dying, and he wanted to have a moment to reconnect with his friends without having to think about the rest of it.

“Carlos. How are you, man? School running you ragged?”

“Sometimes,” Carlos said, chuckling a little, though his eyes were wet. “But I’m fine.”

“Jane too? And Dude? Is he still talking?”

“Endlessly.”

“Yeah? Did he tell you about his grandma?”

Carlos frowned. “What?”

“Never mind. I’m still sort of fuzzy.”

All through this, Gil remained quiet in the corner, looking miserable, and that wasn’t right.

“Gil?” Jay asked. “What’s going on, man?”

Gil didn’t answer, just shrugged.

“Come over here!”

Slowly, Gil stepped up to the bed, Carlos making room for him by Jay’s side. He leaned down and stroked away a lock of hair from Jay’s face.

Jay quirked up his eyebrow and smiled. “Hey.”

Gil returned the smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll go tell the nurses you’re awake.”

With that, he slipped out of the room.

“Hang on,” Jay protested, throwing the blanket aside to follow his boyfriend.

Carlos stopped him with a hand to the chest. “Uh, no.”

“Right.” Even with the sudden movement, there was only an echo of pain. He must be high as a kite still.

“How are you feeling?”

How could he even begin to answer that? “I need to know what’s going on with Gil. Could you talk to him? See what crawled up his butt?”

“Sure,” Carlos promised, giving Jay’s hand a reassuring pat before he left.

Only Mal remained, still looking out the window.

“Mal?” Jay asked. “Are you going to talk to me? Or will I be treated to your back all night?”

Mal turned around, breathing heavily. “I’m getting my spellbook. I don’t care what your doctor says.”

“So you talked to Dr. Sweet,” Jay said. “Did he tell you that fairy magic can’t…”

“Yeah, well, what does he know?” she burst out. “We’ve dealt with worse than this! I’ll talk to the Fairy Godmother, she has to let me use the book. If this doesn’t qualify as an emergency, I don’t know what does!”

Jay didn’t know how to answer. Part of him wanted to be swept up in Mal’s fervour, to believe in the promise held by the green glow in her eyes, but the thought of getting his hopes up and being disappointed again was just… exhausting.

“Okay,” he said, not sure whether he was agreeing to her suggestion or just trying to appease her.

She seemed to take it as the former, because she nodded at him and swept out of the room.

* * *

  


Only a few minutes later, Carlos and Gil returned with a nurse – a heavyset white guy with a horseshoe mustache and his mouth in the same downwards curve.

Jay had to reconcile himself to a round of none-too-gentle poking and prodding that made him itch to give the nurse a punch in the face. The only upside was that by the end of it, the nurse raised the bed so that Jay was sitting up, and then exited without a word of goodbye.

Gil sat down in the visitor’s chair and pulled it closer to the bed so that he could put his hand over Jay’s, while Carlos sat down by the foot of the bed.

“Hey, you,” Jay said to Gil. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing.”

“A lot, is more like it,” Carlos said. “It’s kind of a lot for all of us.”

“Yeah,” Jay said, raising his eyebrows. “I imagine it would be.”

Carlos smirked a little. “All right, wiseass. Where did Mal go?”

“To get her spellbook.”

GIl perked up at that. “Do you think she can fix it? With a spell?”

“The doctor said she couldn’t,” Carlos said gently.

“That’s what he said to me too.” Jay grimaced. “He’s probably right.”

“But you’re going to let her try anyway?”

“She really wants to. And… I have to know.”

“I hope she can,” Gil said, face falling. “I really do.”

He gave a big yawn, and leaned forward so his head rested on Jay’s uninjured leg.

“We’ll get by somehow,” Jay said, stroking Gil’s head.

Carlos chuckled a little. “Look at you, being all domestic.”

“If that’s the word you want to use.” With anyone else, Jay might have tried to put the walls back up, but this was Carlos. No Auradonian decorum, no Isle bravado, just always completely himself.

“Was it fun out there, at least?”

“It was _so_ much fun! We saw so many amazing things, and new things every day. The world is freaking gigantic! We were out there for months and only saw a corner of it. All these plants, and animals… there was this one frog. All Gil did was pick it up to look at it, then later he was biting his nails, and that was all it took. He was tripping all night long!”

Jay laughed at the memory.

“Don’t laugh…” Gil murmured indistinctly, more than half asleep already.

“Come on, man, the frog juice incident was pretty funny.”

“Didn’t mean to… lick the frog juice…”

“I can’t believe you two even made it home alive,” Carlos said with a smile.

“Yeah. If it wasn’t for this guy, I’d be dead right now. Lying in some muddy river. Huh. You’d never even know what happened to me.”

“Don’t even say that!”

Carlos sounded downright furious, and Jay had lost all desire to laugh as well.

Silence filled the room, then Carlos said, “You still want to go back there?”

Jay looked down at the empty space beneath the blanket and shrugged. “I…. If I can. Yeah. There’s so much left to see, you know?”

“And you’re not scared?”

Jay’s first instinct was to lie, and he had to brace himself before admitting the truth. “Of course I am. But I’m more scared of not being able to do it. Of everything else I won’t get to do. I’m scared that I’ll be stuck, forever, like the barrier was still up.”

“Can’t you just be happy living in Auradon?”

“You do know that if anyone else was here, I wouldn’t even get to do this.” Jay gestured at Gil’s position on his lap. “That’s sort of a minimum requirement.”

Carlos gave a small, sad smile.

“Anyway,” Jay continued, “I want to see that penguin, at the very least. Don’t you want to see a penguin, Gil?” There was no reply. “Huh. He’s out.”

“Yeah, it’s getting pretty late.” Carlos stood up. “Some of us haven’t been sleeping most of the day like you have.”

“He’s got a lot more sleep than that to catch up on.”

For a moment, Carlos stood hesitant, then he leaned over and shook Gil awake. “Gil? Hey, Gil? You want to come back to the dorms with me? Pin and I have a couch you can sleep on. It has to be more comfortable than that chair. Plus, you can use our shower. You kind of need it.”

Gil rubbed at his eyes and looked over to Jay. “Will you be okay?”

“Go,” Jay said firmly. He pressed Gil’s hand in goodbye and told Carlos, “Thanks, man.”

“Any time.”

* * *

Mal returned in the early hours of the morning, and Jay only had to see her face to know that she wasn’t bearing good news.

“Nothing, huh?”

“I got the spellbook,” she said, coming into the room. Her steps were slower than usual, like she was carrying extra weight. “Didn’t take much persuasion, actually. Fairy Godmother was pretty understanding. I even found a spell and brewed up a potion. But… it’s just a general healing spell. Your doctor may be right. I’m not sure it would do much, maybe just heal up the wounds.”

Jay thought about it, then said, “Well, I wouldn’t say no to that,” and held his hand out.

“You still want it?”

“I mean, I’ve looked at the leg. It could use a bit of help. And even with the drip, I’m getting a bit achy. So…” He wiggled his fingers in a beckoning gesture.

Mal took a small bottle out of her bag and handed it over. Though the bottle itself was green, the contents seemed to be purple. There wasn’t much of it, a few mouthfuls, like one of the Slop Shop’s spiked coffees.

“Bottom’s up!” he said, popped the cork, and gulped it all down.

It tasted like chili, cilantro, and something suspiciously like disinfectant, but the heat spread through his body, clearing his head and chasing away his aches. He could feel his foot stretch out in joy – but when he looked down, the blanket fell in much the same pattern as before.

Well, not quite the same. He pushed it aside to check.

“It’s a lot less swollen,” he said, struggling against the lump in his throat. “Do you think we can remove the bandages, or should we ask a nurse?”

Meeting Mal’s gaze, he sighed at her expression.

“Come on, Mal, we knew it was a long shot.”

“That is such bullshit!” She snatched the bottle from his hand and threw it against the wall, but instead of shattering, it just fell to the floor with a thud. Part of the durable kitchenware from the Auradon Prep cafeteria, no doubt. “I should be able to do something! What is the point of all this, if I can’t even help you out? I can turn into a dragon, for crying out loud! I turned my mom into a tiny little lizard! Why can’t I regrow a simple fucking leg? I should… I should… I should have been there, Jay.”

“Been where? The jungle?”

“I could have done something. Then you wouldn’t be in this position.”

“Could’ve, would’ve, should’ve.” Was the aching in his eyes a side effect of the spell, or just the tears longing to fall? “You weren’t. I am. I knew the risks going in, and that’s part of the adventure! Seeing the world with _all_ of its dangers. It’s not like I’ve ever lived safe a day in my life. This could have happened at any time, especially on the isle!”

“But if I’d been there… or anyone else except that idiot Gil…”

“Hey!” he barked, sitting up ramrod straight. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about him that way! He saved me! I was ready to write my will, and he got me out of there alive. That’s all anybody could have done who doesn’t have magic, or, I don’t know, a fucking hospital at their disposal. That’s all _you_ could have done a couple of years ago! Don’t. You. Dare.”

Mal sat down, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just… it’s really hard to accept.”

“It’s hard for you to accept!? I’m going to have to live with this! Forever. And that’s hard enough without you being all…. Why don’t you go crying to your king? Maybe he can stomach it.”

She paled at that and left without another word, and Jay instantly regretted it. This was Mal. They had been friends since long before they could use the word, and she had only been trying to help. _Had_ helped, even, and this was how he thanked her for it?

“Mal!” he called, but she didn’t return.

Silence stretched out in the bleak room. After a minute, Jay could bear it no longer, and turned to press the button to call a nurse. Even their company was better than this.

* * *

An hour later there were five people in Jay’s hospital room, himself excluded, and he felt like an exhibit at the Auradon museum. Worse, really – at least those didn’t have to wear hospital gowns.

Gil wasn’t a problem. He had moved the visitor’s chair to the wall and watched from there as the rest crowded around the bed.

Dr. Sweet was one of them. Then there was a man and a woman, both white and blonde; she looked to be in her mid-thirties and he a few years younger. Maybe he was a medical student. The last one was a satyr, short and stout, with cloven hoofs sticking out of his scrubs and two perky little horns crowning a grumpy face. When he’d entered, he had pulled a walker along with him, which he’d left by the door. Since the satyr didn’t need it, Jay assumed that the walker was for him, though he hadn’t been offered it yet.

“This is Dr. Liddell, Mr. Robinson, and Kyrie Philoctetes,” Dr. Sweet introduced.

“Call me Phil,” the satyr grumbled.

Dr. Sweet clapped his hands together. “Now, let’s take a look at that leg.”

The examination hurt a lot less than last time, though Jay’s leg still insisted on telling him that the foot was there, which made for a strange intermingling of sensations. He tried his best not to look down, but couldn’t help it.

“Yup, that’s a fine looking stump,” the doctor said. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought you’d had it for at least a month. Couldn’t resist a spot of magic, huh?”

“I know you said not to…”

“Yeah, but it’s fine, I didn’t expect you to take my word for it. I’m just glad you waited until after the surgery, otherwise it might have healed wrong and been much harder to undo. This looks great. What do you say, Robinson, is it worth taking his measurements?”

“Measurements for what?” Jay asked.

“Prosthetics,” Mr. Robinson said with a smile. “I think it might be. You’re not ready to start wearing one just yet, though, you still need to toughen up the skin. Then we’ll try out a preliminary model, just a few minutes at first, then longer, and adjust the size as needed. Even with the magic, it’ll still take months for your stump to reach its final shape, as the muscles atrophy.”

That sounded alarming. “How… do I stop them from doing that?”

“You don’t. They’re not usable any longer. Of course, the _rest_ of your muscles still need to be kept in trim, and that’s what we’ve got Phil for.”

He pointed towards the satyr, who raised a hand. “Physical therapy. You’ll be seeing a lot of me.”

“Yeah, okay,” Jay said. Physical therapy seemed like something he could handle, definitely more familiar than the rest. Which left the woman. “And what about you?”

“I’m a psychologist,” Dr. Liddell said.

“No way. I don’t do shrinks.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I am a _very_ good shrink.”

She smirked a little and handed over a business card. Jay didn’t bother to take it - it wasn’t like he had anywhere to put it anyway - but Gil hurried up on the other side of the bed and stuck the card in his pocket. Then he remained, hovering, and sure, it was overprotective, but it did make Jay feel a bit better.

“I’ll still check in on you from time to time, going forward,” Dr. Sweet said, “but mostly you’ll be working with these three. And the nurses, but that’s only for the next week or so, maybe less. Speaking of, let’s get you out of this bed, you’ve been lying around long enough. We don’t want you to get an embolism on top of everything else.”

“Fine by me,” Jay said, who had been aching to get out of bed for weeks and even more so since he stopped _actually_ aching.

In reply, Phil the satyr grabbed the walker and placed it by the side of the bed. “Start by standing.”

Jay pushed the blanket aside and placed the foot he still had on the floor. Gripping the handles of the walker hard, he slowly stood up - and then sat back down, much more quickly, as dark spots danced in front of his eyes. “Whoah.”

Gil was instantly by his side. “Are you okay?”

“Headrush.”

“That’s to be expected,” the satyr said. “Try again. Okay, good. Straighter. Sit down.”

Jay sat down, and Phil mucked about a bit with the length of the walker.

“Third time’s the charm. It should be the right size now.”

The third time, Jay remained standing, and Phil grunted in approval.

“Now, push it forward, lean over… no, more than that, keep your weight on your arms, and step. Don’t hop - step.”

Jay did his best, though it was still more of a hop than a step. Gil’s hand rested on the small of his back, for support. “How am I supposed to step with just one foot?”

“By keeping the weight off, like I told you. No - you! Don’t help him. I want to see what he can do. Okay, again. Make sure to keep the walker in front of you at all times, it’s easier on the arms.”

If this was easier, Jay was definitely not ready to deal with harder. He’d only taken a couple of steps, and his muscles were already burning. The doctor had been right – those weeks stuck in bed on the boat had taken their toll.

Well. Muscle at least he could regrow.

“That'll do. You can sit back down. _Now_ you can help him, if you want.” Phil looked over to Dr. Sweet. “Not a full week, I don’t think. We should be able to switch to crutches pretty soon.”

“Four or five days?”

“Something like that. Of course, it depends on the living conditions. Do you have anyone who can look after you?”

“Me,” Gil said right away.

Phil gave him a full once-over and nodded. “Sure, that’ll work. Where do you live?”

“We have a boat.”

“A boat? What kind of boat?”

“Just a fishing boat.”

“That, on the other hand, will _not_ work. Don’t you have an apartment or something?”

Gil looked mournful. “I had a room by the fish and chips shop on the Isle, but I think someone else has moved in by now.”

“What about you?” Phil asked Jay, who shook his head.

“I only ever had my dorm room, that’s been taken too.”

“Any other friends you can stay with?”

Jay didn’t want to stay anywhere at all if it meant Gil couldn’t come with, but it was hard to deny that the boat was unsuitable. So where did that leave him? Carlos still lived in the dorm, with a new roommate. Lonnie and the rest of his old teammates were off to university, meaning more dorms, and he wasn’t comfortable asking most of them for favors anyway. Evie wasn’t even in the same town. So that left Mal.

Mal, who he’d just told to get lost. Mal who, even if he apologized, was living at the palace, with her king, and the king’s royal parents, and a shitload of courtiers.

He sighed. “Maybe.”

“Maybe,” Gil echoed.

Jay looked up, realizing that they weren’t talking about the same friends. In fact there were two very obvious choices of people Gil could mean.

On the whole, he’d rather stay with Mal than with Uma – not to mention Harry. And all three of them were better than staying in the hospital for a minute longer than he had to.

"I'll talk to Mal," he said.

"Lady Mal, at the palace?" Phil asked. "Perfect!"

Jay wasn't so sure.


	4. WHAT SECRETS DOES JAY IBN JAFAR HARBOR?

Back on the Isle, there had been dirty movies in circulation, and Jay had watched some of them on the TVs in the shop, when his dad had been occupied elsewhere. Nurses had featured in several, usually in uniforms with two buttons undone by the beginning of the film and all of them undone before the halfway mark. He couldn’t recall if any of those films had involved showers, but if so, they were guaranteed to have been steamy affairs.

In real life, the best thing you could say about being showered by a nurse was that it was marginally better than being washed in bed. The day nurse was like an inverse copy of his night colleague: still a middle-aged man with a mustache, but small, black, and balding. While Night Nurse had seemed half asleep, Day Nurse was very alert - and very, very stressed.

“Stop,” Jay said as the nurse pulled at his hair, trying to wash it. “Okay, you need more water, and start with… not like that!”

“It’s really matted. Maybe you should consider cutting it off.”

“Yeah, not doing that. Hand me the conditioner. I’ll do it myself.”

Jay poured a generous heaping of conditioner in his hand and stashed the bottle in the corner of his plastic shower chair, ready to add more if needed. He then partitioned his hair into sections and started working the conditioner in, using his fingers to undo the knots.

The nurse crossed his arms. “I haven’t got all day.”

“So leave me to it,” Jay snapped. “I can wash my own damn hair!”

“I still need to help you out of the shower.”

There was one very obvious solution to that. Jay fleetingly wondered if it would be too suspicious to suggest it, but decided to take the risk.

“My friend’s out there. Let him in and he can do it.”

The nurse frowned for a moment, then nodded, and pointed at a pair of buttons at floor level by the door. “Red’s the call button. You fall, you press it. Deal?”

“Absolutely.”

Jay kept working at his hair as the nurse stepped outside, and then Gil entered instead, looking uncertain as he closed the door.

“Hi. Do you need help?”

“Not right now. This’ll just take a while.”

Gil stepped closer anyway and stuck his hand into the water stream, watching mesmerized as it poured over his fingers. “It’s just like a tiny waterfall.”

“I guess. Wait, have you never had a shower?”

“I had one at Carlos’s today. It was wonderful.”

“Yeah?” Jay gave him a sultry smile. “You want another one?”

“Can I?”

“Of course. The nurse is gone, right? Just lock the door to make sure.”

Gil looked at the door, then back to Jay. “There’s no lock.”

“Pull the handle up.”

After doing that, Gil quickly took off his clothes and left them in a pile by the door, before joining Jay in the shower.

Jay sprayed Gil all over for a minute or so, but he still had half his hair left and the angle was weird, so he handed the showerhead over to Gil instead.

At first, Gil sprayed both of them from above, then he sat down on his haunches and sprayed Jay on the chest.

Jay laughed. “You look like Dude begging.”

“How about this?” Gil asked, kneeling down instead. He leaned in and aimed the spray lower.

“That…” Jay swallowed. “That makes it seem like you’re going to do indecent things to me.”

“Maybe I will.”

“I’m not done with my hair yet.”

Gil sighed and obediently sprayed Jay’s hair.

For a while, they remained silent. Jay worked out the last knots, trying to keep his mind on that instead of everything else, but as he rinsed out the conditioner, he asked, “Would you want to?”

“Want to what?”

“Do indecent things?” Jay looked down. “I mean, this isn’t exactly sexy.”

“You’re always sexy.”

Jay met Gil’s eyes once again, and saw only the same simple truth as always. Emotion swelling up in his chest, he pulled Gil in for a deep kiss.

Gil wrapped his arms around Jay and raised them both into a standing position, deepening the kiss further. The showerhead clattered to the floor and started darting this way and that, spraying water everywhere.

Jay broke off the kiss. “Gil, your clothes.”

“Oh, shit,” Gil said. He let go and lunged to save his clothes, knocking Jay off balance in the process.

“Gil!”

Turning around, Gil managed to catch Jay as he fell, and lowered him back down onto the chair.

“I’m sorry! Are you okay?”

Jay held up a hand to ward Gil off, his throat too tight for him to speak.

Very slowly, Gil turned around and hung the shower head back on the wall.

Trying to calm his racing heart, Jay told himself that this was nothing. He’d taken worse tumbles a million times. As long as he would build his strength up, do all the exercises he’d been given, wear those shrink socks and follow all the rest of the instructions, he’d get back in shape, get a prosthetic, and he’d be fine.

But he wouldn’t be able to wear it in the shower. He would always need a chair, and something to hold onto, and a walker or some crutches. That wasn’t going to change.

Gil was standing with his head down and his arms hanging, face forlorn like a little kid who had been hit.

Jay bit his lip. “Hang your clothes on the towel rack. Turn it on, they’ll dry faster.”

Gil nodded and got to it. “What do I do with the towel?”

“Hang it on the walker for now.”

That was something else that wouldn’t change. It wasn’t that Gil couldn’t think things through, but it didn’t come naturally to him. He would always need someone around to remind him, and help him master new situations, and a lot of people didn’t have the patience for that. It wasn’t like a cut-off limb, you couldn’t point to it and say, this is what’s missing. If you spent enough time around him, you noticed, and then people tended to take one of two tracks. Either they acted like he should be able to do everything without effort, or like he couldn’t do anything at all. And he’d had to deal with that, his own limitations as well as the scorn and pity of others, his whole life.

“Hey,” Jay said, reaching out to pull Gil close. “No harm done, okay? We got caught up in the moment, both of us. I like being caught up in the moment with you. We just have to be a bit more careful. Keep it at chair level, for now.”

“Like this?” Gil asked, sinking back to his knees and placing his hand in Jay’s lap.

Jay’s breath hitched. “Something like that.”

“Like this?” The light was coming back in Gil’s eyes. He leaned in for a kiss, and his grip tightened a little.

“Exactly like that.”

“I can do that,” Gil said with a small smile.

Jay returned the smile and lifted his eyebrows. “I know you can, babe.”

* * *

They were sitting on the bed playing Crazy Eights, Jay in hospital sweats and Gil in the terry cloth dressing gown, when there was a knock on the door and Evie stepped in.

“Evie! Hey girl!” Jay said, spreading his arms, and Evie hurried over to hug him. “How long have you been in town?”

“Since just now,” she said, sitting down in the visitor’s chair. “I came as soon as I heard. Actually, that’s not quite true. Mal told me yesterday, but she sounded so sure she could fix it… it wasn’t until she called again this morning…”

Jay sighed. “Yeah. I should talk to her. Apologize. I kind of blew up on her.”

“She gets it,” Evie said, her eyes wet. “You were disappointed.”

“It wasn’t just that.” Jay’s eyes drifted over to Gil, and he fell silent.

Gil seemed to notice that Jay was censoring himself, because he asked, “Do you want some coffee, Evie? They have free coffee, I could get you some.”

“I would love that. Thank you!”

He nodded and headed for the door. Jay called after him.

“You should check if your clothes are dry.”

“Right. Yes.”

Evie chuckled a little as Gil went into the bathroom instead. “Well, he hasn’t changed.”

“Hasn’t he?” Jay mused. “You could be right. Maybe I have. Well.” He glanced down at his leg. “I definitely have.”

Evie burst into tears.

“Evie, no. Shh. No. Come on.” Jay wiped at her face.

“I don’t know how you can be so calm.”

“Well, I mean, I know it’s just been a day for you guys, but it’s been weeks for me. Weeks when I was sick, and in pain, and thought I would die. I’m actually feeling a lot better. And I’m not gonna lie, it’s still really rough, but we’ve dealt with worse.”

“Have we?”

Evie took a tissue from her handbag and dabbed at her eyes, watching in silence as Gil left the bathroom again and went out into the corridor, dressed in his wrinkled and still somewhat damp clothes.

“Gods,” she sighed when he was gone. “What was he thinking?”

“Gil? His clothes got wet before, they were still drying.”

“No, I meant, why would he do this to you?”

Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know, maybe to stop the rot from spreading to the rest of my body? You make it sound like he cut my leg off for shits and giggles!”

“No, of course not,” she argued weakly.

“I don’t know what Mal told you, but there was no saving that foot. It would have killed me, long before we got to Auradon.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“I do say so, and so does the doctor. You can ask him, if you don’t believe me.” He sighed and pushed back the damp locks of hair that were sticking to his face. “This is why I was mad at Mal. Well, half the reason.”

“You’re a good friend,” Evie said softly. “Always protecting people.”

He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, okay, fuck you.”

After a moment, she smiled too.

“So, how long are you staying?” he asked.

“I don’t know. As long as you need me to. Doug’s parents are letting me live with them, in his old room.”

“Yeah? What are they like?”

“Super nice! I mean, I dropped in with like, three hours notice, and they were so welcoming and told me I could stay as long as I want. They have a lovely house, and everything is in two sizes, and the kitchen workbench can be raised and lowered. It’s really practical. If Doug and I have kids someday, and those kids turn out to be little, it’s good to know how to arrange things.”

“Wait. Doug and you are both tall. Why wouldn’t your kids be?”

“He might still carry the gene. We’ve talked about it.” She shrugged. “Anyway, kids are kids, I’ll be happy to have them either way. Just not yet. I’ve got _tons_ of stuff I want to do first! My business is just getting started, and with everything I’m learning, we could start expanding by next year.”

Jay grinned. “You’ve sure come a long way since the fairest of them all!”

“Maybe,” she admitted, and wrinkled her nose. “I never liked that much, anyway. It always felt like being stuck in a tiny cage. One of those spiky ones, the iron maidens.”

“Yikes. No wonder you’d rather be a business woman.”

“You tease, but business school is so much fun!” She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them. “Okay, so certain bits of economic theory are pretty drab, but all the things I could do with it! And we’re doing PR right now, it’s like doing a spell without any magic, just… influence.”

The eagerness in her face made her look more beautiful than ever, and Jay had to smile. “So, what does your school say about you just dropping everything to come here?”

“I talked to the dean, he was very understanding when I said what had happened to you.”

There was an odd undertone of guilt in her voice, which made Jay narrow his eyes. “And…?”

“I may have said you were my brother.”

“Damn, girl!” Jay laughed. “Lying to the dean? Are you sure you don’t need a few extra lessons in remedial goodness?”

She slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “It’s not much of a lie. You’re my brother in every way that counts.”

He was too touched to speak, for a moment, and before he had a chance to, she continued:

“Anyway, for all we know, you could actually _be_ my brother. It’s not like I know who my dad is!”

That was a new and rather unsettling thought. “Your mom and my dad? Ew!”

“Why ew?”

“Eww! Nah, I’m sure if Dad had hooked up with the Evil Queen, it would have come up at some point during the many _many_ fights my parents had.”

She blinked. “Wait. You knew your mom?”

“Sure.” Jay shifted a little, trying to shake off the hollow feeling left by the memories. “I haven’t talked to her since I was five or so, but I remember her.” At Evie’s inquisitive look, he continued, “She and Dad kept the store together, until she found out he had been stealing from her. Then she ditched us both and went to live on the other side of the isle.”

“Did you ever wonder what happened to her?” Evie asked in a low voice.

“Yeah, but… just so I could avoid her. She was _really_ bad with kids. Like, even compared to Dad, bad with kids. I used to catch rats and mice to feed to her pet crocodiles. They were these huge, snappy beasts, but I was less afraid of them than I was of her, and if I could keep them happy, she’d be in a better mood for a while. At least sometimes. It didn’t always work. Funny thing is, after she left, I kind of missed her crocodiles. Maybe that’s why I kept those pet eels. Felt good to have something to feed vermin to.”

Evie sat in silence, looking thoughtful and a bit sad.

“Evie? Hey, Evie!”

“Hm?” She blinked, and then nodded. “That’s awful. Yeah, you’re better off without her.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, changing position so he could put his hand on hers.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Realization hit him. “Wait - you didn’t _actually_ think we were brother and sister, did you?”

“No! No, of course not! It’s just…” The smile she gave him trembled ever so slightly. “Is it weird that I was hoping?”

“It’s not weird,” he assured her, squeezing her hand. “You’re my sister in every way that matters too. And you don’t want my dad. Trust me. You deserve so much better than my dad!”

“I know. I know.”

The door slammed open as Gil backed into the room, carrying a tray. “Coffee!” he declared, and then caught sight of the others’ expressions as he turned around. “Or not. I could go away and come back later.”

“No, it’s fine,” Evie said, waving for him to come over. “It smells great. Thanks, Gil!”

“There’s milk too,” Gil said, putting the tray on the bedside table, “and sugar, and more sugar which is brown - I’m not sure if it tastes different or it’s just like eggs. But I’d love to try and find out! Which kind of sugar do you want?”

“If you take brown, I’ll take white, and we’ll try each other’s,” Evie said. “Jay?”

“I don’t want sugar at all,” he said, “but you two knock yourself out.”

He took his cup and watched the other two make their comparison test. His first family may have been shit, but he couldn’t have wished for better luck when it came to his second.

* * *

  


The shadows were growing longer by the time Jay took the bull by the horns and texted Mal: “I'm sorry for the things I said. You didn’t deserve that.”

Ten minutes later, she called him back, and he hastily swallowed the last pieces of a meatball sub. “Hi!”

“You don’t have to apologize,” she told him. “I know I let you down.”

“You didn’t. Not really.” At least, it didn’t make any sense for him to punish her for it. “Apparently you took at least a month off my rehab, so I should thank you for that. Not, you know, piss all over it.”

“Well, that’s something, I guess.”

“It’s a lot. So, thank you. I was just…” He paused, looking over at Gil, who was sitting on the window sill watching something outside while he slowly ate his sub. “Angry at the other stuff you said.”

“Yeah. That wasn’t quite fair.”

There was a long stretch of silence before Jay finally admitted, “I kind of need to ask you another favor.”

“Anything!”

“Don’t say that until you know what it is. See, uh, Gil and I… kind of need a place to stay. You think we could crash with you guys for a while?”

Another long silence. “At the palace?”

“Yeah. If that’s okay?”

“Of course! It’s just… would you want to?”

“Well, my physical therapist says that the boat’s not good enough.”

“Right.” With unusual hesitation in her voice, Mal asked, “And Gil too?”

“I’m not going anywhere without him,” Jay said fiercely.

Gil looked up at that, wide-eyed.

“No, I get that, but you do remember the history his dad had with Ben’s parents, right?”

Truth was, Jay hadn’t given it any thought. Now he winced. “You think they wouldn’t let him stay?”

The look that got him from Gil was so damned wounded it was unbearable.

“I’m sure Ben and I could convince them. But it might be pretty awkward - for Gil too.”

“Hang on, I’ll ask.” Jay put the phone down and asked Gil, “Would you be okay staying with Ben’s parents at the palace?”

“You’d be there too, right?”

“Yeah, that’s sort of the point.”

“Then why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know, because of your dad, and what he did to them.”

Gil frowned. “You mean, because he tried to kill Ben’s dad and marry his mom?”

“Right.”

“You think they wouldn’t like me?”

Anyone who didn’t like Gil was an unmitigated asshole in Jay’s book, but he couldn’t deny the possibility. “Just… maybe they wouldn’t… entirely trust you.”

Gil thought about that, and then shrugged. “That’s just anywhere in Auradon.”

Chuckling, Jay recounted his words to Mal, who laughed too.

“Once a VK, huh? All right, I’ll try to arrange it. Don’t blame me if it’s the stiffest dinners you’ve ever been to.”

“Stiff is better than dinnertime on the isle,” he pointed out. “Thanks, Mal. Oh, and if you want an ace up your sleeve, you could always tell them that Doug’s parents pretty much rolled out the red carpet for Evie. Do they really want to be less magnanimous than a sidekick?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Evie’s mom ever tried to turn Dopey into a pelt.”

“That would be extremely weird furniture.”

“I shudder at the thought.”

They said their goodbyes, and then hung up. Jay grinned at Gil. “Seems like we’re headed for palace life. You got a nice shirt?”

Gil looked down at what he was wearing. “I tore up most of my shirts for bandages.”

“Hm. Maybe it’s time to get my stuff out of storage.”

It probably wouldn’t make much of a difference, Jay knew, but it might help if they didn’t look like the penniless wanderers that they were.


	5. ROYAL FAMILY TAKE IN LADY MAL’S WOUNDED FRIEND

Four days later, Jay was officially released from the hospital and ready to go. Sure, he had several pages of instructions for home care, and he would have to return regularly for PT and checkups, but he still signed the papers with a giddy sense of freedom.

The hospital corridors being what they were, he’d opted for a wheelchair for the time being, while Gil carried the crutches. They were down in the lobby when Evie rushed inside, harassed and out of breath.

“What’s going on?” Jay asked. “Isn’t Mal coming?”

“She’s out there with Ben and Carlos, trying to stave off the press.”

It took a second for the message to sink in, and then Jay cursed to himself. As Isle kids, they’d always had to deal with a certain level of media interest. He didn’t usually mind, especially not when it coincided with a tourney victory. This was another matter.

“Gil, hand me the crutches.”

Evie shot him a disbelieving look. “Seriously?”

And sure, maybe it was vanity, but if Jay had to face reporters, he wanted to at least be at eye level, not with them towering over him.

“Don’t talk to them,” he told Gil. “Whatever they say, not a word. Okay?”

Gil nodded and pressed his lips together, as if the vow of silence started right then and there. Jay grinned, longing to pry that mouth open with a kiss, but there were people in the lobby.

Once they stepped outside, the onslaught started.

“Jay! How did this happen?”

“Jay! Do you regret your journey?”

“Jay! What’s your message for the younger children of the Isle who look up to you?”

“Jay! Is there anything that gives you comfort in these sad times?”

“Jay! What are your thoughts concerning the future, now that your tourney career is over?”

“Jay!”

“Jay!”

“Jay!”

They were everywhere, in front and to the sides, pushing microphones in his face, making it impossible to get into any sort of steady rhythm going forward. Ben and Mal were further ahead, their smiles and amiable statements drawing some of the crowd away, but it was like a single flypaper on a dung heap. Carlos was at the back, with Dude yapping and yelling at anyone who got close, while Gil and Evie flanked him quietly, trying to create some space, with mixed success.

Someone got too close and snagged a crutch. Jay momentarily stumbled, and in the seconds before he regained his balance, ten more camera flashes went off.

“Just let me get to the fucking car!” he snapped.

The collective gasp held a note of sensationalism, and he winced. He hadn’t used the F word in front of reporters since his first month in Auradon, and he hated to think how they would spin it. But there was just enough room left by that gasp for him to make it the rest of the distance unassaulted.

Once he closed the door to the limo, he leaned back and groaned.

“What a fucking nightmare!”

Evie was the first one to duck inside. “Sorry about that!”

“Would have been nice with more than thirty seconds warning.”

“We didn’t know they were coming. Though I guess we should have.”

Gil was putting away the wheelchair in the trunk, but entered a moment later and gave a low whistle. “They sure ask a lot of questions!”

“Did you answer any?” Jay asked.

“No! You said not to!”

The door opened again for Carlos, who sat down opposite them, and Dude, who was so energized that he ran three laps around the floor before settling down.

“Hi, Jay!” the dog said. “Carlos told me to fetch things for you if you need things fetched. I’m very good at fetching!”

That did make Jay chuckle slightly, despite everything. “Thanks, Dude. And thanks, Carlos.”

Carlos saluted him. “The least we can do.”

Mal and Ben were the last ones in, and finally the limo could start.

“Well,” Mal said with a wry smile. “Welcome to palace life.”

“How do you stand it?”

“I don’t. Remember when I ran off to the Isle?”

Jay did remember, and understood Mal’s point of view better than he had back then. The Isle held no temptations for him, but if it had been possible for him to return to the boat with Gil and set sail for uninhabited lands once again, he would have.

At least the people currently in the car with him were some very good reasons to stay.

The windows on the limo were darkened, but once they reached the palace, Jay rolled one down, briefly, to gauge the surroundings. The reporters were fewer here, and better mannered, but there were still enough of them that he sighed and said, “Okay, let’s go with the wheelchair. But nobody better touch the handles!”

Whether it was better or worse was hard to tell. Yes, it felt like pushing through rough thickets, but at least he _could_ push through, and try to ignore all the commotion above. Nobody stood close enough to get run over; he half wished they would have.

Especially when the gates closed behind them, and he heard Snow White outside, giving her TV audience a summary:

“...And in a stunning act of charity, the royal family have opened their home to Lady Mal’s old friend from the Isle, former tourney star Jay Ibn Jafar, who as you can see was horribly maimed during his journey abroad…”

The expression Jay gave King Adam and Queen Belle, who strode up to greet them, was better suited for a fight to the death than a friendly visit.

Evie was by his side, and he muttered to her, “You wouldn’t happen to have any poisoned apples to give Snow White?”

“Wish I did.”

Forcing himself to smile, Jay said, “Your majesties, thanks for having me.”

“Any time,” Queen Belle said. “After everything you’ve done for Auradon, you and…” Her eyes drifted over to Gil, and her voice wavered for a second, before she continued: “...your friends are always welcome.”

“And it was my decision anyway,” Ben said with a grin.

Jay glanced over at Ben’s father. He had a feeling that if it had been up to the older generation, the warm welcome might not have been extended to his “friend”.

* * *

They were taken to a side entrance, which Queen Belle apologized profusely for.

“The northwest wing isn’t as atmospheric as the rest of the castle, I’m afraid, but it is the most modern and thus easier to, well, adapt to your needs.”

Mal rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s a hovel, Jay, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, you!” the queen said and gave her a playful smack on the shoulder. “Well, I’m sure you young people have a lot to talk about. Dinner’s at seven, you’re welcome to join us!”

With that, the two elder royals retreated to the castle proper, and the rest headed inside, Jay trading his wheelchair for crutches once again.

He wasn’t sure where the lack of atmosphere was supposed to lie, if it was the black and white pattern on the walls, or that the flower-shaped ceiling lamps were LED-lit. The corridor was still a mile wide, and the bedroom, once they got to it, had a widescreen TV, a double-door wardrobe, and a bed you could sleep in sideways. He wondered if the queen had any concept of what kind of living area he’d had for most of his life.

Gil, for his part, was just gawking, not even having had enough previous time in Auradon to get used to the luxury.

“I tried to fix up the bathroom for you,” Carlos said, opening that door. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

The bathroom had a large tub, rather than a standalone shower, but a bench had been attached to the top of the tub, with a handrail on the wall behind it. Likewise, the toilet had been given a removable frame. There was a rubbery layer on the floor, and when he got closer, he saw that the tub had a rubber mat too.

It was all pretty obviously last-minute additions, and the clash between form and function probably didn’t suit the queen’s sense of atmosphere, but it would do the job.

“Thank you,” Jay said, still taking in the sight.

“Gil, your room is right next door,” Mal said. “Want to check it out?”

Jay looked up and frowned.

“I’m not staying here?” Gil asked.

“No, of course not!” Ben cut in. “This isn’t school, we have more than enough bedrooms to go around. It would be very inhospitable to make you share!”

They proceeded on to the next room, but Jay stayed behind, sitting down on the toilet lid, trying to make sense of his strange mix of emotions.

Carlos halted by the door. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I don’t know. I love this, and I hate it.”

“Makes sense.”

“Does it?” Jay shook his head slowly. “I’m so tired, Carlos. I try to be okay, and every day, it’s something. Always something. Whether it’s reporters, or this… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply… you did a great job. I mean it.”

“I know,” Carlos said softly. His eyes were so sad that Jay averted his gaze.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“I don’t know how else to look at you. Like I’m not sorry this happened?”

“Like I’m still…” Strong. Fearsome. Admirable. Saying any of those out loud seemed silly. “Me.”

Carlos thought about it and nodded. “A tool.”

That made both of them laugh, for longer than the joke probably deserved.

Still chuckling a little, Jay said, “And they just had to give Gil and me separate rooms, huh?”

“What did you expect? It’s Auradon. Mal and Ben still aren’t sharing rooms.”

“Seriously? They’ve been dating for years. What are they waiting for?”

Carlos held up his hand and pointed towards the ring finger.

Jay breathed out through his teeth. “Damn. And you and Jane are still in separate dorms, huh? Bet you envy me those four months in a boat cabin now.”

Carlos grinned, but it soon gave way for a more pensive expression. Jay expected that he was lingering on the outcome of that boat trip again, but that wasn’t it.

“You know, it’s funny, I was never sure if you, you know, liked guys.”

Of all the bizarre confessions…. “No? Then what did you think it was about, those times when I kissed you?”

“Horseplay? I mean, you were usually wrestling me.”

Jay shrugged. “It was the Isle. Affection wasn’t really a thing.”

“Well, when we got here, you got, like, aggressively into girls.”

“Yeah. It was easier that way.” He’d spent a lot of his life doing things like that - exaggerated the sides of himself that he wanted people to see, in the hopes that they wouldn’t notice the rest. Not just when it came to relationships. “Anyway, you fell in love with Jane.”

“I did.” Carlos’s expression softened. “I am.”

“And I love Gil.” Saying it to someone else was almost as exhilarating as saying it to the man himself. “We missed our window.”

After a beat, Carlos asked, “Is it weird that I’m happy about that?”

“No. I am too.” Jay gathered his crutches and stood up. “Come on. Let’s see what the others are up to.”

* * *

Gil’s room was like a mirror image of Jay’s, except that the bathroom was unchanged. Everyone remained in there for a while, talking, while Gil lay sprawled out like a starfish on the bed.

Eventually, Carlos and Evie left, while Mal and Ben withdrew to their part of the castle, so that only Jay remained. He lay down carefully on the side of the bed, and Gil wiggled about to make room for him.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“This bed is as big as my room on the Isle!” Gil said.

Jay thought back to the corner of his father’s shop where he’d slept before Auradon prep, and for the first time, he wondered if yanking Gil away on a sailing trip so soon had been just a little bit selfish.

“Why would we need two rooms this big?” Gil sat up, leaning on his elbow. “And who lives here when we don’t?”

“Guests, I suppose.”

“But Uma said there are still people living on the island who can’t find anywhere else to stay. Why can’t they stay here instead?”

An Isle kid advocating for radical redistribution of wealth. Jay could just imagine what the likes of Queen Leah would make of that. He quenched a smile.

“Close the curtains and lock the door,” he said.

“Why?” Gil asked, getting up immediately.

“Why do you think?”

Gil closed the curtains, then looked dismayed as he reached the door. “There’s no key.” He gave the door handle an experimental tug. “Doesn’t seem to lock this way either.”

Jay grimaced. That meant anyone could enter whenever they wanted, and sex probably wasn’t worth the risk. “Never mind, then. Come here.”

Gil lay back down, and Jay trailed kisses along his jawline to the mouth.

"You are the most amazing guy in the whole world.”

“I’m not, though!” Gil protested, even as he kissed him back. “I haven’t done anything!”

“Haven’t done anything! Haven’t hauled my ass back from the jungle. Haven’t helped save Auradon when Audrey went haywire. Haven’t grown up impossibly… adorably… good.”

“You were always so much better at everything,” Gil said, sneaking his hands in under Jay’s shirt. “And sharper, and hotter, and I was scared to even _want_ to want you.”

“Mm.” Jay licked Gil’s lower lip. “We’re both lucky.”

“We’re so lucky.”

They said nothing after that, busy with the kisses and the touching. Mindful of the unlocked door, they kept their clothes on, hands and mouths exploring the uncovered areas.

When they tired of kissing, they remained in each other’s arms, talking nonsense, jokes and memories, like they had so many nights on foreign shores.

Jay was leaning his head on Gil’s arm, eyes half closed, when there was a knock on the door and Gil went to open.

“Hey,” Ben said. “Have you seen… Oh, hi, Jay! Both of you are welcome to dinner in fifteen minutes. It’s in the crimson dining room, main entrance, second door to the left. You don’t need to change clothes, it’s just a family affair.”

He strode into the room and pulled the curtains open.

“We don’t really close the curtains during the daytime,” he explained. “It’s so the castle will look more open and welcoming. Okay, you guys freshen up, and I’ll see you in fifteen minutes!”

Jay sat up slowly, telling himself that Ben was a nice guy who just happened to be monumentally clueless.

There was no reason whatsoever to contemplate the finer points of regicide.

* * *

Jay had visited several of the palace rooms before, but the crimson dining room was new. By royal standards, it was probably modest. Though there were portraits on the walls and a fireplace on one end, there was no furniture beyond the dining table and chairs. The table was large enough to seat twenty, but only six places were set.

One of the footmen pulled out a chair for Jay, then took his crutches and placed them against the wall.

It felt like a trap closing – which was ridiculous, it was just dinner, and if he needed to leave he would certainly be allowed to.

At least Mal was on his right and could help stage a breakout if necessary. Gil was to the right of Mal, and Ben had the seat on Jay’s left at the head of the table. Queen Belle had the place opposite Jay, with King Adam to her left.

It didn’t escape Jay’s attention that he and Gil had been split up again, and that Gil was placed the furthest away from the queen. Judging by the elder king’s scowl, at least the second part of that hadn’t been by accident.

Gil himself didn’t seem to have noticed, instead tugging at Mal’s sleeve to whisper something to her.

“Oh!” Mal said and gestured towards the silverware for both of their benefits. “Start at the outside, move towards the middle. Top fork is for dessert.”

Jay counted the numbers of each form of cutlery. There were enough of them that his fingers itched to slip one into his pocket, though that itch had become easier to control with time. “How much are we supposed to eat?”

“Only five courses,” the queen said.

Gil lit up at that information, and even more when the first course was brought in, a green soup. Even after all this time in Auradon, Jay couldn’t determine what kind of vegetable was in it, but it had a creamy rich taste that was better than anything he’d had in months.

By the time they reached the salad, the queen started with what she probably considered small talk.

“So, Jay, have you considered what you’ll do for next semester?”

“Next… semester?” he asked, trying to prevent the cheese flakes in his salad from crumbling when he tried to eat them.

“Yes! I was thinking, by New Years you’ll probably be recovered enough to study, and if you prefer to keep working with the same hospital staff that you’re used to, ACU is certainly a good enough university.”

“I was only going to Sherwood for the tourney, anyway,” he said slowly.

“Then Auradon City should work as an option, shouldn’t it?”

Jay frowned into his salad. The thought of studying just to study was pretty unappealing, but what else could he do? Any career path seemed either forbidden, impossible, or mind-numbingly boring.

“Mom,” Ben said, “maybe Jay needs to focus on getting well, for now.”

“Of course, but application dates sneak up earlier than you’d think, and…”

“Mom!”

The queen raised her hands in a comical gesture of defeat, and they ate in silence for a few minutes, Jay still trying to come up with something, anything, that might be fun to do for the rest of his life.

Not to be deterred for long, the queen turned her attention to Gil. “What about you?”

Gil swallowed the last of his croutons. “Me?”

“Yes! I’m afraid that in order to apply for university, you will need at least one year of credits from a non-Isle school, but if we get you enrolled in Auradon Prep now, perhaps you could catch up and be ready by autumn?”

Mal covered her mouth with her napkin, though it did nothing to hide the way her shoulders were shaking.

As for Gil, he looked like a child about to get mugged. “N-no.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t do school! I mean, I did, until I was fifteen, but I never liked it much, and Dad said I could stop. That it was a waste of time.”

The queen made a face. “Of course he did.”

“Maybe he was right,” King Adam said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Jay’s hand closed around his knife handle. It wasn’t sharp enough to stab anyone, but he still took great pleasure tearing his lettuce leaves apart.

“School isn’t everything,” Ben cut in. “Sorry, Mom.”

Gil’s eyes darted from queen to king to younger king. “I did like some of it?” he offered. “Biology! I liked opening things up to see what they looked like on the inside.”

Jay choked on the lettuce and started coughing, while Mal helpfully thumped him on the back.

“I didn’t mean you!” Gil hastened to add. “I swear I didn’t mean you. That was terrible. It wasn’t fun at all.”

“I know,” Jay croaked out.

Mal could no longer hide her laughter. “I’m sorry,” she gasped, “I know it’s not funny, but oh gods…”

“I meant fish and mice and stuff,” Gil tried to explain. “And they were already dead.”

Jay reached across Mal to squeeze Gil’s hand. “Don’t worry about it, man. I know.”

“Well,” the queen said weakly. “I suppose that’s to be expected, with your upbringing.”

_And who was to blame for getting us stuck with that upbringing_ , Jay wanted to ask, but he was there as a guest, an act of charity (as Snow White oh so _kindly_ had pointed out) and he’d gain nothing by losing his temper.

The salad plates were taken out and the next dish carried in – a large sea bass on a tray, with vegetables on the side.

King Adam gestured towards it and told Gil, “Feel free to open it up and see what it looks like.”

“Dad, can you not?” Ben said sharply.

Enough was enough. Jay pushed his plate away. He couldn’t eat a bite more while his boyfriend looked so miserable. “Hey, Gil, I seem to recall you doing okay in maths, too.”

“Some of it,” Gil said. “The numbers stuff.”

“Isn’t that what maths is?” Ben asked. “Numbers stuff?”

“Yeah, but, you know. When they put the numbers in rows and columns, and I just had to do each of them in turn and carry the one, I could figure most of them out. But sometimes there were these long sentences with numbers in them, and they wouldn’t tell you which number went where or what method to use. I could never get the hang of those. I can read,” he assured the royals. “I learned how. I just didn’t know what they wanted of me.”

Jay saw the queen’s expression shift to one of pity, which – _damn it!_ – was still the wrong response. If only he could get them to see Gil’s good sides, his strength and loyalty and kindness.

Mal was the one who found the right track. “In fact, I seem to remember that the stuff you did worst at was shit like Evil Schemes and Nasty Plots.”

“Enrichment,” Jay said, remembering.

“Advanced Selfishness.”

“Basically all of the villain classes.”

Ben smiled a little. “You flunked out of villain class?”

“It was so hard!” Gil said, sounding desperate. “Even harder than the other subjects, I could at least hope for a D in those if I really tried, but all that stuff… I just couldn’t. That’s why Dad told me to drop out. He said I wasn’t learning the right things.”

“Gil,” Jay said softly. “We spent most of our time in Auradon Prep trying to unlearn the stuff we learned in those classes. You flunking out is a good thing. You’ve got a head start on the rest of us.”

Hope dawned in Gil’s eyes. “Is that true?”

“Of course it is,” Ben said. “It means you’re not a villain.” He looked pointedly at his parents. “Doesn’t it?”

The queen’s hand closed over her husband’s, and the smile she gave Gil had genuine warmth. “It does.”

Jay picked up his knife and fork. That sea bass smelled delicious.

* * *

The rest of dinner went well enough. Jay was absolutely stuffed by the time it was over, and lulled to a sense of complacency.

Thus it came as a dull blow when he, falling a little behind the others, overheard the king murmur to the queen: “This arrangement may need to last longer than we anticipated.”

“I’m sure Jay will find something gainful to do eventually,” she replied. “The other boy… who knows?”

Jay clenched his jaw and hurried ahead, the luxurious rooms having lost some of their appeal.

His mood wasn’t improved by the uniformed guard placed in the corridor outside his bedroom.

“If you need anything during the night, just ask,” Ben said with a gesture to the guard.

“Huh.” Jay eyed the guard. The sword that was part of the uniform looked more like decoration than anything else, but he was willing to bet it was still sharp. “You know, this isn’t necessary. If there’s something I need that I can’t get myself, I’m sure Gil could get it for me.”

“Yeah, but, uh, Pete knows where everything is, don’t you, Pete? Anyway, Mom and Dad preferred this.”

So Pete’s job was also to make sure everything _stayed_ where it was, Jay surmised. Arguing would have raised suspicion, so instead he shrugged and headed inside. It would have been a great relief to at least slam the door, but before he had a chance to, the guard had already closed it behind him.

He sat down on the bed and took out his phone, texting Gil.

**Jay:** Do you think there’s any chance of us ever getting to have sex here?

**Gil:** no piracy

**Gil:** privacy 

**Jay:** :-[

**Gil:** bathroom?

**Jay:** On the bench? Not sure it will hold for that. Showers yes sex no.

**Gil:** :-(

**Jay:** Kissing maybe. Come over and try? Tell the guard I need help.

**Gil:** Do you?

**Jay:** I need you. ;-)

Bed the size of a garage and they were stuck trying to fit their love life on a narrow wooden bench above a bathtub. Sometimes Auradon was a pain in the ass.


	6. NEW THINGS AFOOT FOR JAY IBN JAFAR

The next day, Jay was in his room, doing the massages and exercises he’d been ordered to, when his phone buzzed. Reaching over, he looked at the picture Carlos had sent him: a computer sketch of a cylindrical piece of webbing, stretched into a flat base. It took him a moment to realize that it was a leg; just as he did, another picture of a leg came through, this one an intricate cybernetic machine that he couldn’t even begin to figure out. Then two more, one a sleek streamlined spike, the other a piece of clockwork.

Jay laughed and called him up. “Thanks for the pics, man. They’re awesome! Shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I’ve got study hall.”

“Oh, is this studying?”

“I’m using my talents for the betterment of society,” Carlos said primly.

“Yes, you are. Listen. As much as I appreciate the effort, I have a technician, and apparently there’s a lot of stuff to consider with prosthetics, like fit, pressure, balance, weight… I think it needs a professional.”

“Oh.” Carlos sounded only a little disappointed. “Sure, that makes sense.”

“I’ll give you his number, okay? Maybe you can send over your ideas.”

“Sounds great!”

“Cool.”

“So, how are you holding up?”

“Oh, you know, the food is great, so is the room, the bathroom is pretty functional thanks to you, we’ve got our own entrance so we don’t have to deal with all the toffs on diplomatic business…”

“You hate it.”

Jay sighed. “I just wish I could escape it sometimes, go places. I’ve barely got enough stamina to get out of the palace gardens on crutches, and the wheelchair is almost worse. And even if I tried, there are still some reporters hanging around. The only time I leave the grounds is for PT, and that needs to be scheduled in advance, so the driver is available, and everyone knows exactly where I’m going and for how long.”

“You should get a car of your own.”

“Yeah? With what money?” Jay fell silent. It wasn’t a bad idea, a car. He could probably still drive an automatic. As for money, there was one pretty obvious asset still available, that he wouldn’t be using any time soon. He sighed. “We’d have to sell the boat. Damn. I’d hate to do that to Gil. We were so happy out there. And sure, around here he gets showers, and a soft bed, and gourmet food, but… I don’t know. He’s been pretty low lately.”

“That’s not so strange. All of this has to be pretty rough on him too, especially considering…”

Carlos’s voice drifted off, and Jay clenched his fist tight.

“Considering what?”

“You know. That he’s kind of the reason you’re in this position.”

Jay closed his eyes and grimaced. “Damn it, Carlos, not you too! Why does everyone just automatically assume that Gil fucked up?”

“Well, I mean, it’s Gil.”

“Yeah. It’s Gil. I’ve spent several months having to trust Gil with my life, and let me tell you, if the roles had been reversed, I wouldn’t have been able to pull off an amputation like that. The only reason I’m back here alive is because he knew something that I didn’t. And not to put too fine a point on it, but I don’t believe you could have come up with a better solution either.”

There was no reply.

“Carlos?”

“I’ve tried to think of something,” Carlos said, his voice shaky. “I know it’s pointless, after the fact, but I’ve looked at the charts of where you were at, and I keep coming back to… you could have died. It’s pretty scary to think that the only reason you didn’t was because of Gil’s dumb luck.”

“Luck, and experience. You may be a freaking genius, Carlos, but it’s not always about that. Sometimes it’s just knowing the right things. You’ve certainly asked my advice enough times, and you’re, like, twice as smart as I am. Gil had the practical skills, and the guts, to trade my leg for my life, and right then and there, that was what I needed.”

“Meanwhile, I can’t even build you a new one,” Carlos said quietly.

“Talk to Mr. Robinson. You guys will figure it out. Besides, you fixed my bathroom, and you listen to all my shit. That’s worth a whole lot too. I just need you to give my boyfriend a break.”

“Don’t worry. I will.”

* * *

Jay’s mind rebelled at the thought of selling the boat, but he couldn’t deny the appeal of having a car of their own. The only other option was to earn some money. Stealing was out of the question – even if he could bring himself to return to his old habits, he couldn’t make a getaway. He wouldn’t be able to balance a full-time job and his rehabilitation, but perhaps a side gig could be of some help.

And when you got right down to it, he still did have one very solid area of expertise.

“Could we take a detour to the Auradon Prep tourney field?” he asked the driver after a PT session. “I need to talk to the coach.”

The team was just finishing up their practice as he got there, and he had to endure a lot of stares, some better hidden than others, and a few whispers, as the players made their way to the dressing room.

Coach Jenkins, upon seeing him, looked crestfallen for a moment and then put a smile on, striding over.

“Jay! Good to see you again, kid! I was so sorry to hear about your accident.”

“Yeah, I got the flowers you and the team sent. Thanks.”

“Of course. Well, you’re a bit late if you wanted to see the practice. Is there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“Actually, there is.” Jay drummed his fingers against the handles of his crutches, taking a deep breath before he continued, “I was wondering if I could work here. Just a few nights a week, helping out, giving the team some pointers. Like an assistant coach.”

He didn’t even have to finish speaking to read in the coach’s face what the answer would be.

“I really wish you could, but the thing is, the assistant coaches, they have to be ready to help out all over the field, carry things… you know what it’s like. I don’t see how any of that’s possible.”

Jay’s face heated. “Right. Of course. Forget I asked. It was good seeing you too.”

“Jay!”

But Jay didn’t respond, opting instead to hurry out of there as fast as he could muster.

When he was already in the parking lot, another voice called, “Jay!” and he paused to see a black woman with a ponytail come running towards him.

“Clio, Muse News,” she panted as she got close.

“No comment,” he said, resuming his pace to get to the limo.

“If you would just hear me out…”

“I said no comment!” he snapped, his hands shaking so badly that he had difficulty opening the car door. “Why won’t you people just leave me alone?”

He finally got the door open, got in, and slammed it shut on whatever she shouted in reply.

On the way back, he was very grateful for the darkened windows.

Once they reached the palace, he didn’t even bother going to his own room, instead opting to storm into Gil’s and fling himself down on the bed.

Gil turned off the TV and frowned. “Did something happen? You’re later than usual.”

“I asked the coach for a job. He wouldn’t have me.”

Gil got up, then paused halfway to the bed. “Should I close the curtains?”

“Oh, but we mustn’t!” Jay said sarcastically. “It’s not _welcoming_!”

So instead Gil sat down next to him and stroked his hair. “I haven’t had any luck either.”

“Wait.” Jay blinked to clear his vision. “You’ve looked for jobs?”

“A whole bunch of them. Most say no the minute they hear I’m from the Isle. The rest… people here really care about school. A lot.”

Jay groaned. “Two years we’ve been here, and Mal’s going to be queen, and they still treat Isle kids like dirt. And I got past that, and now… I feel so useless!”

“You’re not, though. You just haven’t found the right thing to do yet.”

“Hm. What would you say if we traded the boat for a car?”

“You want to go inland?”

“I was more thinking that I need to get places here in Auradon, on my own time, without involving other people.” Jay got up on his elbows. “But you’re right. We could go inland. Sherwood, Schwartzwald, Agrabah.”

“We could go mountain hiking!” Gil suggested, and Jay laughed a little.

“I can’t even hike a mile!”

“Not now, but someday. Years from now, when we’re older.”

“You’ll still be with me years from now?” Jay asked, cupping Gil’s chin in his hand.

“Of course.”

“Curtains or bathroom?”

“What?”

“I’m gonna kiss you. Curtains or bathroom?”

“Oh.” Gil smiled. “In that case, I’ll close the curtains.”

* * *

Jay appreciated PT for the change of scenery and the chance to work out at a proper gym. Phil’s strict orders were a source of strange comfort, though there were times when Jay wished the satyr had been just a smidgen less perceptive.

Such as when Phil took a firm grip on his left knee, and Jay couldn’t help wincing.

“What was that?” Phil asked.

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh.” He squeezed a bit tighter, and Jay winced again. “Did you have a fall?”

“Marble floors,” Jay admitted with a sigh. “I’m fine. It’s just a bruise.”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Stretch - now bend - and in this direction - push.” Phil let go, and nodded. “Okay, just a bruise. This time. But you _tell_ me when you have a fall, you hear? The last thing you need is to bust a ligament and get your other leg out of commission. Especially now that you’re about to start walking.”

Jay, already desensitized to the scolding, looked up. “Wait, what?”

“Yup. Cory has the first preliminary model ready. Of course, if you’re injured, we may want to postpone.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Phil grinned. “All right, give me your best for the next twenty minutes and I’ll take you over there.”

So Jay did pushups, and leg lifts, and everything else he was supposed to, counting down the seconds until he was finally let out of the gym and taken to a smaller room, where Mr. Robinson was waiting by a pair of parallel bars.

“Ready for the first try?” Mr. Robinson asked, taking out a by-now familiar plastic socket, only this time it was attached to… well, it looked like a glorified crutch ending with a store mannequin’s foot, but at least it was a leg. “I know it’s not as snazzy as those prototypes your friend sent me, but remember, we’re still in the early stages.”

Jay swallowed and sat down on the chair he was offered. “I don’t even care.”

The most surprising sensation, once everything was in place, was how hot it was inside the prosthetic. He was quite used to stump socks by now, but the liner that formed the next layer was a lot thicker, like wearing a thermo jacket indoors, and then there was the socket on top of that. He could feel the sweat starting to form before he’d even taken his first step.

“Okay, grab the bars… now stand.”

Jay did as he was told. After all this time on crutches, his instinct was to lean on his left leg and his arms, like before, but he shuffled his right leg forward instead. It was heavier than he had expected, but he managed to get the artificial foot in the correct position and cautiously let it bear some of his weight as he took a step with his left foot.

“Shift your weight back and forth a bit,” Phil recommended. “Try to find the balance, and don’t favor one leg. That’ll only lead to back trouble in the long run.”

“Now I have to worry about my back too?” Jay complained, taking another step, and another, trying to ignore the way his stump was protesting at the treatment.

“Yup. This isn’t just about what works right now. We want to keep you strong and healthy for many years to come.”

Jay did his best to follow the instructions, and Mr. Robinson grinned. “Have you looked in the mirror yet?”

So Jay turned his head in the direction Mr. Robinson nodded, and saw himself in a full-length mirror, on two feet. Sure, one of them was an awkward piece of plastic and metal, but it was still enough for a lump to form in his throat.

“My cellphone’s in my jacket, could you take a picture?”

Phil did as told, showing Jay the photo before asking, “Any pain?”

“No,” Jay lied.

Phil crossed his arms.

“Okay, a bit. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“It’s not about what you can handle, it’s about what your leg can handle,” Mr. Robinson said. “We’ll do a few more exercises, and then I’ll have a look.”

Despite the pain, and the sweat, Jay was sad to sit back down and take off the prosthetic, while Mr. Robinson squeezed and measured both that and his leg.

“There are some readjustments that need to be made. The rest is just a need for more healing, and more practice. I’ll fix the socket for next time, and we’ll do this a few times a week, with longer sessions as we move forward.”

“Can’t I just take it home and work out there?”

“Absolutely not. It’s vital that you use this baby correctly. Incorrect use, not to mention overuse, can lead to sores. If you then _keep_ using the prosthetic after you develop sores, it means your stump is in a warm and humid environment, and do you know what _that_ means?”

“What?”

“Higher risk of infection. And infected wounds…”

“Is how I landed here in the first place,” Jay muttered. “Okay. I get it.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Mr. Robinson patted him on the shoulder. “But you took your first steps! Congratulations!”

That was pretty cool, Jay had to admit. He sent the photo over to Gil with the caption “was bipedal for a little while today”.

Gil sent back: “!!!!! so proud so happy <3<3<3”

A minute later, there was a picture of Gil and his two friends at a used car lot.

“Found some good ones,” Gil had written. “Want to help choose?”

Jay smiled. It might not be a leg, but it was a taste of freedom nevertheless.

* * *

Choosing the car didn’t take long. Getting an adapter to shift the gas pedal to the left proved to be a more arduous affair, but a couple of days later, Jay finally sat down in the driver’s seat and stroked the steering wheel.

“Okay,” he said, grinning at Gil. “Here goes.”

At first he only drove around aimlessly, crisscrossing through the city and hitting all its landmarks in the least time-efficient way possible. He pointed them all out to Gil, parks, statues, theaters and museums, but didn’t stop anywhere until they got to a deli shop, where he pulled into the parking lot.

“Let’s not go back,” he said. “We still have some money. Let’s buy lunch, head out into the countryside, have a picnic.”

Gil’s face lit up. “Yeah! Like old times!”

“Right, but with bagels!”

As Gil headed inside to get the food, Jay texted Mal a quick explanation, and then set the GPS.

It was quite a long drive, past shopping malls, apartment buildings, houses with white picket fences, farm houses, crop fields, and about five miles of forest, until Jay turned right on a gravel path and pulled over by a half overgrown lakelet.

“Where are we?” Gil asked, looking around.

“Bumfuck, nowhere!” Jay cheerfully declared, getting out on the path. “I hear the fishing’s okay, but apart from that, there’s nothing around for miles.”

“So we just have to watch out for fishermen.”

“I’m sure we’ll hear them coming.” He pulled Gil into a kiss. “Come on, get the bagels, I’m starving.”

They sat down on their jackets in the grass, side by side, reveling in the closeness as well as the food. Gil leaned his head against Jay’s chest and closed his eyes, as Jay fed him little pieces of cream-cheese bread.

“I wish it could be like this all the time,” Jay said.

“Hmm.” Gil took out his phone and took a picture of the two of them, as Jay kissed him under the ear.

“You know you can’t show that to people, right?”

“Duh, of course not.” Gil’s muscles suddenly tensed up. “There’s no reception.”

Jay shrugged. “That’s sort of the point, isn’t it? To get away from everything?”

“But there’s no reception!”

“So what? What are you afraid of, that I’ll step on another stick?”

Gil’s breathing got faster, and his lips went pale. Jay sat up straight, alarmed by the sudden change.

“Gil? Gil, slow breaths, okay? In through your nose. One - two - three - four - five. Good. Now out through your mouth. One - two - three - four - five. Good. Keep at it. It’s going to be fine. We’re just outside of town. Nothing bad is going to happen.”

Jay kept talking and counting until Gil’s breaths slowed down, and then took his boyfriend’s hands in his own and rubbed them gently.

“Feeling better?”

“I’m sorry,” Gil said.

“Don’t be. It happens.”

“No, I’m sorry for all of it. Your leg. I try to make it up to you, but I know I can’t. Ever. It’s all my fault.”

“What? No! You know that’s not true. It was the best option. We agreed, remember?”

“Yeah, but you had a fever, you weren’t thinking straight.” Tears were spilling over from Gil’s eyes. “And if I’d been smarter, I could have thought of something…”

“No! Fuck no! You did all you could! And you know who else thinks so? Dr. Sweet. And he’s a really smart guy. In fact, when it comes to this, he’s the smartest guy around.”

“But everyone else says…”

“Yeah, I know what everyone else says.” Jay wiped away Gil’s tears and then kept caressing him. “If I’d known they were saying it to your face, I would have sorted it out a long time ago. ‘Cause you’re a hero, Gil. You’re my hero.” He smiled a little at Gil’s expression, calmer but still sceptical. “I’m going to call Dr. Sweet, set up an appointment. Since you clearly don’t trust me.”

“I trust you.” Gil stood up, put on his jacket, and held out his hand for Jay to take. “Can we go back now? Maybe just to the farms, and watch the horses run?”

Jay gathered his crutches and took the offered hand. “Of course.”

* * *

Dr. Sweet swept into the examination room with a cheerful smile. “Jay! Good to see you! How are you holding up? Any trouble with the healing? Sit down on that table, let’s get a look at your leg.”

Jay sat down, and Dr. Sweet raised the table, removing the rubber band from Jay’s trouser leg and rolling it up.

“Hm,” he said, kneading the stump gently. “Looks good. Any pain? I hear you’re walking now, that can cause trouble sometimes.”

“I’ve only walked twice,” Jay said. “And yeah, it hurts a little, but Mr. Robinson says that’s to be expected.”

“It is. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary.” Dr. Sweet leaned back in his chair. “So why are you here?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you could tell Gil what you told me. About him doing the amputation.”

“Oh, right! Of course!” Dr. Sweet didn’t seem to have noticed Gil at all before, but now he strode up and gave him a hearty handshake. “Great job! Have you considered medical school?”

“What?” Gil asked.

“Yeah, I don’t know many kids your age who could have pulled that off. Actually, I don’t think I know _any_ kids your age who could have pulled that off. Where did you pick up skills like that?”

Gil’s gaze drifted over to Jay. “Is he making fun of me?”

“Nope!” Jay said proudly.

“On the contrary, I’m impressed!” Dr. Sweet assured them.

“Um, I…” Gil licked his lips. “There are a couple of pirate surgeons on the Isle. I’ve watched them work, helped out a few times.”

“Only a few times?”

“I’ve watched more often than that, but they didn’t let me help until I was grown. I didn’t remember all of it, but I’m good at sewing and butchering, so I tried my best.”

“Sewing and butchering.” Dr. Sweet shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“I thought he’d die!” Gil pleaded. “‘Cause I’ve seen it when the rot spreads, and the organs stop working.”

“That’s called sepsis, and you’re right. The foot was necrotic, right? At least that’s what you said.”

The last comment was directed at Jay, who raised his eyebrows. “Did I?”

“Describe the wound,” Dr. Sweet urged Gil, who did as told – at such length that Jay, who’d only seen a glimpse of it, had to turn away and try to tune the words out. When Gil fell quiet, the doctor said, “Sounds like you acted in the nick of time, there.”

“But wasn’t there anything else I could have done?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never been good at figuring stuff out. What would you have done?”

“Kid.” Dr. Sweet sat down on his chair and sighed deeply. “I have a whole hospital, with antibiotics, blood transfusions, a fully equipped operating room, and if all else fails, I can petition the council for permission to use magic. You had none of that. And you were – how far from the nearest town?”

“About a week,” Jay said.

“There could have been villages closer,” Gil said. “But they weren’t charted.”

“Mhm. You could have been lucky and found someone who could help, or you could have wasted precious time trying. In which case, yes, Jay could have died, or lost even more limbs.”

“Wait,” Jay said. He’d gotten used to the grim thought of barely escaping death, but this was a new one, and brought some unpleasant mental images. “More limbs?”

“Yeah. The body doesn’t prioritise limbs when it’s fighting to survive.” The doctor stood back up and put one of his large hands on Gil’s shoulder. “I understand second-guessing yourself, but there’s no need. What you did was skillful, and incredibly brave, and your friend is lucky to have you. But I think he knows that.”

“Yup,” Jay said.

“In fact, the only thing that bothers me is that you’ve seen it done enough times to know how. Didn’t you have access to proper medical facilities on the Isle?”

“Oh, yeah,” Jay said. “Top notch, all the best equipment and medicines, totally affordable, and nothing was ever sold on the black market.”

“That’s not true,” Gil said slowly, still taking it all in.

Jay met the doctor’s eyes, and could see him mentally file away Gil going to medical school in the never going to happen pile. There seemed to be no judgement accompanying that, however.

“What were the names of those surgeons?”

“Woodall and Jukes,” Gil said.

Dr. Sweet noted it down. “I’ll contact them. And then there’s you. We could use a guy like you at the hospital.”

“I’m not – I can’t be a doctor,” Gil protested.

“Maybe not, but I bet you could be an aide. We’re always looking for more of those. Send in your application, and I’ll put in a good word for you.”

Jay grinned, and Gil was smiling too, but with some hesitation.

“I don’t have much schooling, and I’m from the Isle…”

“And you’re clearly good at caring for people. Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out.”

“A job,” Gil said, turning to Jay, excitement growing. “I could have a job!”

“Yeah!”

“We would have money. We could get an apartment!”

He rushed over and caught Jay in a hug, and Jay returned it, wanting nothing more than to take Gil’s beautiful, beaming face in his hands and shower it in kisses, but instead forcing himself to let go and say, “Congratulations!”

The remark was for himself, as much as for Gil. This was like a giant golden present being dropped in their laps.


	7. INJURED ISLANDER FLEES ROYAL PALACE

As it turned out, the strings on that present proved hard to cut, even after Gil was approved by the hospital and officially had a job.

Jay took it upon himself to make the calls to try to find an apartment. The lady from the municipal housing authority had a very sympathetic voice, but explained that due to the influx of residents from the Isle, the waiting list was up to two years, as new building projects weren’t yet finalized.

“Do you want me to mark you for special needs?” she asked.

“Yes? I mean, I guess. Is that better?”

“There are fewer such homes being built, but there are also fewer people in line for them, so in all probability you could get one in… maybe eight to ten months.”

Jay groaned.

“Tell you what, I’ll put you on both lists, and make a note that you require an apartment with easy access, we’ll see what turns up first. Will that do?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” he said. After all, it wasn’t her fault that he’d sailed the world instead of signing up for a lease.

“You could always try the private landlords as well.”

She sounded very dubious as she made the last suggestion, and he understood why as he started making more calls.

Some stated it outright: No tenants from the Isle wanted. Others wrapped it in sugary tones and innocuous questions.

“What was your name again?”

“Jay.”

“Family name?”

“Ibn Jafar.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have any suitable apartments for you.”

A couple had heard of him from his tourney days and seemed quite taken with the thought of having him as a tenant – but with a roommate? Also from the Isle? No.

And then there was the man with the jolly, kind voice who had no issue at all with Isle kids, he’d love to rent to a couple of rowdy boys, and Jay was just starting to smile when they got into the specifics of the apartment. Attic room. Fourth floor. No elevator.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the man said when Jay explained why that would be impossible. “I’ll keep in touch if something comes up, all right?”

That fleeting hope was something, at least, though it wasn’t nearly enough.

As vast as the palace was, it felt more constricting every day.

Phil noticed Jay’s mood on the next PT session after that particular call. He commented, “You’re gloomy today,” as he tossed him a soft rubber ball.

Jay got up into a kneeling position and carried the ball down diagonally in axe-wielding strokes, while he poured out his woes to Phil. There were more people in the gym than usual today, so they had to wait their turn with the machines and stick to some other exercises in the meantime.

“So you’ll have to stay at the palace,” Phil said. “The tragedy. Side to side.”

“Okay. Fine,” Jay grumbled, as he switched direction. “I know it’s spoiled of me. I just want a key in the door, and the right to close the curtains whenever I want, and no armed guard outside. And not having the most stilted dinner conversations known to man, but just… ordering pizza and eating it on the floor in front of the TV.”

“Pig,” Phil said amiably, then laughed at Jay’s expression. “Okay, I get it. You want a bachelor pad, and the right to jerk off.”

“I didn’t say jerk off.”

“I distinctly heard jerk off.”

Jay let it slide, since at least it implied that the sexual activity he missed would be solitary. 

“You know what, it’s not even about that,” he said, though it was at least partly about that. “I don’t want to feel like I’m the royals’ pet charity case.”

“Huh. You really shouldn’t be reading those articles.”

“What articles? Phil? There are articles!?” And sure, he’d known that some of the reporters were still hanging around, covering all the official business of the royal family, but he had thought that they’d by now tired of trying to cover _him_ , since he wouldn’t speak with any of them.

Apparently not.

The old man who had been using the rowing machine stepped out of it and came limping over.

“Excuse me,” he said. “My name is Fa Zhou, I couldn’t help overhearing.”

He reached out a hand and Jay shook it, somewhat puzzled. “Jay.”

“Yes, I know who you are.” Mr. Fa smiled a little, and continued, “My mother died a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He waved that away. “She was ninety-six. The point is, she was fiercely independent right until the end, and had her own little apartment in the same building as ours. We’re still clearing it out. We meant to sell it, but I wouldn’t mind renting it out instead.”

Jay sat down slowly, as it dawned on him what the man was saying. “Oh, wow. Thank you. Are you sure?”

“Of course. Some of the larger furniture is still there. We could let it stay if you prefer.”

Phil laughed and thumped Jay on the back. “See? Things work out for the best.”

It still seemed too good to be true. Jay struggled to remember the necessary caveats. “How much would it cost?”

“With the furniture? Let’s say eight hundred a month.”

That was doable. That was completely doable, at least as long as… “Is it accessible?”

“She was ninety-six, Jay,” Phil pointed out, and Mr. Fa smiled.

“It’s on Maple Road. Modern housing, elevator, washing machine, a favorite among retirees. Not much company for you, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine, I have a…” Jay frowned. “A roommate. He’s from the Isle too. Is that okay?”

“It’s not a large apartment,” Mr. Fa said with a shrug, “but I think it has room for two. And I trust your judgment in character. My granddaughter speaks very highly of you.”

“Your granddaughter?” The pieces of the puzzle finally slid into place, as Jay realized why this perfect stranger was showing him such kindness. “You’re Lonnie’s grandfather.”

“I am.” The simple admission was said with fondness and pride. “She got a scholarship to NWU, based on her work as captain of the Sword and Shields team. The position you gave up for her.”

“I heard,” Jay said softly.

“So you understand that this isn’t a favor I’m doing you. It’s a favor repaid.” Mr. Fa gave him a mock scowl. “And also a business arrangement. I expect the rent to be paid in full, on time, every month.”

“Yes sir,” Jay said with a grin. “Not a problem.”

* * *

There were plenty of maples on Maple Road, with rich crowns of red and yellow leaves. Over the treetops, ten-floor buildings stuck up like puffballs, with another one being constructed at the end of the road. They were solid, undecorated, and just a little bit boring, though the architects had done their best to hide this with surrounding plant life. You couldn’t imagine anyone holding a royal ball here, or the residents putting up rows of stern family portraits in winding staircases. The whole area was like the city planning equivalent of a sweatshirt: simple but comfortable.

Which made it a bit of a letdown when Gil and Jay left the car and found that there was still a wide set of steps leading up to the front yard of their building.

Jay sighed, grabbed the bannister, and handed the crutches over to Gil. “All right, here goes,” he said, hauling himself up the first step. There were only twelve of them, and though he didn’t look forward to navigating them every time he left home, he could manage.

“There’s an elevator on the other side,” a voice said.

He turned around and found a girl in a wheelchair waving at him. She was about their age, white, with glasses, and blonde highlights in her hair.

“Hi, Jay!”

Of course he recognized her. He’d seen her around Auradon Prep a bunch of times. As he made his way back down, his brain scrambled for a name, but came out blank.

“Hi… uh…”

“Elle,” she said. “We were in school together.”

“I know.”

“And you must be Gil. Nice to meet you!”

Gil shook her outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you too! Do you live here?”

“Yeah! The whole building is actually built into a hill, so from this angle it looks super forbidding, but if you pop around to the back, the elevator is right there.” She gestured for them to follow. “They really should put up a sign, but they don’t. So, who are you visiting?”

“We’re coming to live here too!” Gil said brightly.

“We hope,” Jay said. “We’re here to look at an apartment.”

“Oh, nice! Old Mrs. Fa’s place? Fifth floor. I’m on the sixth. I would _love_ to have you guys as neighbors. Everyone else here is ancient. I wanted a dorm room, but they’re ‘historical’, meaning I can’t even get into them. So no can do until the new ones are finished, and that’s not until next year.”

“It’s the same with apartments,” Gil said. “They’re building a lot of them, but they’re not finished yet.”

“Yeah, and I get that. Nobody knew the barrier was coming down.” They’d reached the other side of the building, and Elle slammed on a door opener, waving them inside a hallway, and then the elevator itself. “But I’ve been going to Auradon Prep for four years, and then I apply to university and it’s like a total surprise that I want to live somewhere. Of course, my parents are happy that I’m safely tucked away with no people my own age who can lead me astray.”

“Well, that’s ruined now,” Jay commented, quietly unsettled by the thought of all the elegant, old-fashioned buildings in Auradon. How many of them would he have trouble getting into?

“Yes!” She pointed triumphantly at him. “A pair of rapscallion Isle boys just a floor down. Couldn’t be better. Speaking of, here’s your stop! Good luck!”

She gave them a final wave before the elevator continued on its way up.

“That was nice,” Gil said. “She was very friendly!”

“She was,” Jay said. Even after all this time, he still got suspicious of open warmth, but at least it was better than the alternative. He pressed the doorbell. “Let’s hope it’s a good sign.”

The door was opened by a round-faced, elderly woman with only a passing resemblance to Lonnie, mostly around the eyes and nose.

“Welcome! I’m Fa Li. Please come inside!”

From a shallow perspective, of course the apartment was a trade down from their rooms in the palace. Most of the furniture was gone, with only the larger pieces remaining – some empty bookshelves, a two-seat sofa, a folded-up kitchen table, and in the bedroom a solitary bed and nothing else. The floors were laminate or plastic, the walls whitewashed with marks where paintings had hung.

It was a place waiting to be filled, with _their_ stuff.

Outside the bedroom window, there was a view of the front yard. From this angle, Jay could see the large apple tree in the middle, as well as some other trees and bushes along the sides.

“Are the apples for everyone?” he asked.

“Yes,” Mrs. Fa said, moving closer. “And that over there is a plum tree. We usually get currants as well, though of course their season is over.”

“Oh, brilliant!” Gil rushed over to see. “Free fruit!”

Jay nodded slowly, then turned around and took in the room’s proportions. Wide door, no threshold, plenty of space to move. The bed was fairly high, and when he sat down to test it, he found it firm, too. Easy to get in and out of.

“I don’t think you could fit another bed in here,” Mrs. Fa said, “but you could replace the sofa with a bed, or with a fold-out couch.”

Jay and Gil shared a secret smile, and Jay said, “I’m sure we’ll figure something out. How’s the bathroom?”

“I’m afraid we threw out the shower chair,” Mrs. Fa said, leading the way. “It was such a ratty old thing. But it should be easy enough to get another one.”

The first thing Jay noticed was the standalone shower, and the bars on the wall. There were none by the toilet, but it wouldn’t be too hard to add the same kind of frame he had presently. The room was spacious, and there was a washer and dryer on the opposite wall from the toilet.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can fix this up.”

Gil gave a long sigh of content. “We get to live here?” he asked, his voice filled with wonder.

Mrs. Fa smiled. “If you want. Of course, there are some ground rules. No smoking in the stairways or elevator. Any pets must be kept indoors or under supervision. No loud noises after 10 PM. If there’s a special occasion, a party of some sort, we can make an exception, but please let the other residents know in advance.”

“Ooh, a party!” Gil said. “I’ve never had a party of my own! Should we have a party?”

“Let’s wait a bit with the party,” Jay said. “We don’t want to scare off the neighbors.” He smiled at Mrs. Fa. “Sounds great, all of it.”

They signed the contract, were given their keys, and then Mrs. Fa left them to spend some time alone in their new apartment.

Gil locked the door behind her, then reached up to stroke Jay’s cheek. “No curtains yet,” he said.

Jay caught Gil’s hand and kissed it. “Blinds.”

“What?”

He motioned for Gil to come along into the bedroom, and dropped down the blind on one of the windows. Gil slowly reached out and dropped down the other one, leaving the room in a dusky grey light.

Jay sat down on the bed and gave Gil his best suggestive smirk. “Well, come on then!”


	8. JAY IN FEUD WITH NEW NEIGHBORS

In a strange way, the bareness of their new apartment only made it feel more home-like, like being back on the boat again. For the first couple of days they were pretty busy bringing in their stuff and making lists of what else was needed and in which order to get it – between the car, the rent, and the deposit, they didn’t have much money left until Gil’s next paycheck.

And so Gil went off to work, and Jay did his exercises, and played around with his phone, and found to his surprise that he was getting quite bored.

It was still early enough in the day that his friends would be in school. He sent a few texts over to Evie, who was still on leave, but when he didn’t get any reply, he decided to explore the area instead.

The building itself wasn’t much to see from the inside – every landing looked the same, with only the names on the doors to tell them apart. By the front entrance, there were mailboxes, but of course there was nothing in theirs. It still said Fa Xia, and he figured they should put a piece of tape or something on it until it got officially changed.

Outside, it was starting to get chilly, but the skies were clear. Apart from the greenery, the front yard also had some benches, and in one corner there was a sandbox and two swings. Considering the average age of the residents, the toys probably weren’t in great demand.

Jay went up to the apple tree, navigating around the half-rotted apples lying on the ground. The lowest branches were bare, but there was plenty of fruit higher up.

For a moment, he took measure of the tree, then he dropped his crutches and grabbed hold of a sturdy branch above his head. He heaved himself up until he could get his foot on the lowest branch, and then continued upwards.

It was easier than he had expected. Even his right leg was of some use, as long as he was mindful to think “knee” rather than “foot” before he put it to work.

At ten feet or so, he stopped, taking off his beanie to fill it with apples. They were large, and red, and he couldn’t resist biting into one, crisp sweetness filling his mouth.

The view from the tree was pretty good, and so he easily spotted the familiar blue-haired figure coming in his direction.

“Hey, Evie!” he called. “Evie! Up here!”

At first, she couldn’t find him; when she did, she rushed up the stairway, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

“Oh my goodness, Jay!”

“Goodness?” he teased. “That’s awfully Auradonian of you.”

“Jay, what are you doing!?”

“Picking apples. You want one?” He threw her an apple, and she caught it, still focused on his presence in the tree.

“What if you fall down?”

“Come on, Evie, it’s an apple tree, not Bald Mountain. You really think I need two feet for something like this?”

“You’re still healing! You could get hurt!”

He sighed and tossed the apple-filled beanie to the ground.

“You mean,” he said, grabbing the branch he was sitting on and scooting further back on it, “maybe I’ll lose balance?”

With that, he let himself fall so he was hanging from his hands and knees.

Evie screamed, and he burst out laughing.

“You asshole!” she yelled.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He took pity on her and climbed down a little, until he was sitting on level with her shoulders. “There. You see? Can’t get hurt from here. Could you give me the bitten apple?”

She handed it to him, sat down on the lowest branch and took a bite of her own apple. “You’re still an asshole. Trying to give me a heart attack.”

“I know, it was mean. It just feels so good to be off the ground again.”

She shook her head and chuckled a little. “When you wrote you were getting bored, I didn’t think you were so bored you’d start climbing trees.”

“Better than climbing the walls.” He peered towards the building with its smooth, white concrete wall. “I don’t think I could manage that one even with all parts attached.”

An elderly barrel-chested man was coming out of the building, and his chest expanded even further when he spotted the two teenagers in the tree.

“You thieves!” he shouted. “Get down from there this instant! Those apples are for the residents!”

Evie slid down from her branch, looking guilty, while Jay made himself comfortable.

“I am a resident,” he said.

“You are not!” The man’s pale face reddened. “I have never seen you here before.”

“I moved in a few days ago. Mrs. Fa’s old apartment.”

“Oh. The tenants.” Though this caused the man to deflate slightly, he still spoke the word as if it was dirty.

For the first time, his gaze landed on Jay’s leg, and stuck there for a little longer than comfortable. Jay set his jaw, mentally daring him to make a comment.

Instead, the man said, “Well, get out of that tree anyway! You’ll hurt the branches!”

“Listen, you…” Jay started, but Evie held up a hand to stop him.

“We don’t want any trouble,” she said, picking up the beanie full of apples. “Jay, get down. Why don’t you show me your apartment instead?”

Jay rolled his eyes, but climbed down, and the man continued on his way, still muttering under his breath.

“Okay, that dick deserves a punch in the face,” Jay growled quietly to Evie. “I don’t care how old he is.”

She sighed. “Jay, do you really want to be the guy who punches defenseless old men? It’s bad enough they kept running that clip of you saying ‘fuck’ to a reporter.”

“They did that, huh?” He shook his head ruefully as they headed inside. “Man, they used to love me in Auradon.”

“I’m sure a lot of people still do,” she said, holding the door open for him. “It’s just that your tourney halo has been a bit tarnished.”

As they waited for the elevator, Evie ran her fingertips across the names on the letterboxes. “So is Mr. Shouty representative of the neighbors?”

“I hope not,” Jay said. “Mr. and Mrs. Fa seem alright. And that girl in the wheelchair from Auradon Prep.”

“Elle? Yes, she always seemed like a nice girl.”

“Wait, you know her?”

“A little bit. She went to all the parties.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just… for some reason, I never talked to her.”

“Well, she wasn’t into sports, or you,” Evie commented with a smirk, stepping into the elevator. “Those were pretty much the only two types of Auradon girls you talked to.”

He wanted to protest that the statement was unfair, but in all honesty he couldn’t, and so he held his tongue for the rest of the elevator ride.

The apartment didn’t look like much, showing it off to someone else like this, and he said, “It’ll be better when we get more stuff.”

“I think it’s great,” she said, taking in the sight. “It’s clean, everything appears to be working, and it’s roomy.”

“It’s roomy because there’s hardly any furniture.”

“How much are you paying for it?”

“About half of Gil’s salary. We’ll get by, but that’s all.”

Evie smiled at him. “No regrets, huh?”

“None whatsoever.”

She sat down on the sofa, and he joined her. For a little while, they talked about everything and nothing: random news, memories, things their friends had done.

Then she fell silent, and when she spoke again, it was in a more contemplative tone. “When I first came back to town, I had this image that I would… I don’t know, hold your hand while you cried. But it hasn’t been like that, has it?”

Jay gave her a melancholy smile. “In fairness, apart from right at the beginning, I haven’t cried much. Bitched and moaned, yes, a bunch of times, but I didn’t need to burden you with that.”

“Because Gil was there,” she said softly.

“Yes.”

“I used to worry about you, just a little. The four of us were so tight, and then we all paired up with people and you… didn’t. I mean, I know romance isn’t everything, but I didn’t want you to feel left outside.”

“I didn’t,” he assured her.

“Well. Nevertheless, I’m glad you found someone.”

“So am I.”

There was a pause, during which her hands were moving restlessly in her lap.

“Jay. You mean so much to me, and if there’s anything you need, you know you only have to say the word, but…” Her voice drifted away.

It wasn’t too hard to guess what she was aiming to say. “Is it Doug you miss, or the school?”

“Both,” she admitted. “I wrote my midterm paper from here, but I have a big test coming up, and if I miss that I have a lot to catch up on before finals.”

“Go,” he said firmly. “You’re right, I don’t need you here. I mean, I _like_ having you here, because you’re my friend, and of course I’ll miss you, but I’ll be fine. We can talk over the phone and text.”

She gave him a long, hard hug. “I will. I promise.”

“You’d better.” He winked at her. “Can’t neglect your big bro.”

“You’re, like, two months older than me.”

“Ah.” He put an arm around her shoulders and mussed her hair. “That’s plenty.”

* * *

Jay and Gil were just cleaning up after dinner when the doorbell rang. It gave both of them pause. They’d never actually heard the signal before, and they weren’t expecting visitors.

Gil went to open, while Jay rinsed his hands and sat down on the cooler he’d used to rest his knee.

It turned out to be Mr. Fa, which wasn’t so surprising, though his expression suggested a more serious reason than just wanting to check up on them.

“Hello,” he said. “How are you settling in?”

“Good,” Jay said. His thoughts briefly went to the half-open door to the bedroom, and the two sleeping bags zipped together on the bed, but there wasn’t anything to be done about that now. “What’s up?”

“I…” Mr. Fa stroked his beard. “First of all, I want to say that I’m happy to have you here, you have done nothing wrong as far as I can see, and you have nothing to worry about.”

Gil frowned. “Is it just me, or does that not sound as reassuring as it’s meant to?”

“It’s not just you,” Jay said, leaning forward. “Okay. Thanks. But?”

“May I sit down? The thing is, I have had a letter of complaint from one of the other residents, a Mr. George Darling.”

Jay stared at the piece of paper Mr. Fa produced from his inner pocket, and groaned. “Is this about the apple tree?”

“Wait, what about the apple tree?” Gil asked.

“I climbed it, to pick some apples. Your wife said the apples were for everyone,” Jay told Mr. Fa. “She didn’t say I wasn’t allowed to climb the tree.”

“They are. You are. At least, there’s no rule against it, though I think you two are probably the only ones living here who could manage it. Mr. Darling does mention the apple tree in his letter, but truth be told, I don’t think that’s what bothers him the most. He objects to the two of you living here on principle, and his primary concern seems to be you.”

The last bit was directed at Gil, who looked alarmed. “Me? What did I do?”

“He found out that you were a pirate, and he doesn’t approve of that.”

“But… but I’m not a pirate anymore! I work at the hospital now!”

“I know,” Mr. Fa said heavily. “Anti-Isle sentiment is still strong in parts of Auradon, that’s all.”

Jay clenched his fists. “Can he kick us out?”

A sudden fire came into Mr. Fa’s sad eyes. “I own this apartment! Not him. And I have every right to rent it out if I want to. No. What he might do is take it to the Homeowners' Association. Try to bring it to a vote. But since you haven’t actually broken any rules, that’s not a vote he can win. It would be unpleasant for you, that’s all.”

Jay ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Mr. Fa, I appreciate your concern, but we’ve dealt with much worse people than him by far. If he’s got no actual power over us, then we’re not going to worry. Right, Gil?”

“Right,” Gil said, crossing his arms.

“That’s good. You’re brave boys.” Mr. Fa stood back up. “Well. I hope you will enjoy living here, despite Mr. Darling. Good evening.”

After Mr. Fa had left, Jay shook his head. “Yeah, such a darling. Hand me my phone, will you?”

Gil did as asked. “Who are you calling?”

“Dr. Sweet. I may not have to worry, but that doesn’t mean I have to take it either. Hi, Dr. Sweet? This is Jay. I was wondering if you could do some sort of official statement in the media…”

* * *

Jay had been driving to the park and was on his way back when he spotted Elle on the sidewalk, a full grocery bag on her lap, and so he pulled over and called out to her: “Hey, Elle! Do you need a ride?”

She stopped, straightening the bag a little. “It’s less than a mile, not worth the effort. Though if you’d give my bag a ride…”

“Sure, throw it in!”

“Thank you!”

She placed her bag in the passenger seat and then headed off at such a pace that she caught up with him at the parking lot before he had finished backing in the car.

“That was a help,” she said as she unloaded the bag. “I hate being mindful of things. Speaking of, patch of ice there.”

He got out of the car and navigated around the patch. It was just the one spot where a puddle had frozen, but for the first time, he contemplated winter. Pretty soon, there would be more ice, and snow, and even if he got his prosthetic home he wouldn’t be wearing it full-time yet.

Elle seemed to be doing okay in her wheelchair – she was certainly going faster than him, and she could carry more stuff. Of course, hers was a much nicer model than the one he’d been given, not as bulky, and without handles. Almost sporty.

“I like your chair,” he said.

“Thanks! It’s new.”

“Is it better than crutches? With ice and stuff?”

She tilted her head and pondered the question. “Well, I don’t have much first-hand experience for comparison, but I would say, better with ice, worse with snow, and in conclusion, winter stinks either way.”

“Yours looks better than mine,” he said.

“You have a wheelchair?”

“Yeah, I got it from the hospital.”

“Hospital standard?” she said with a grimace. “Yikes. Those are for little old ladies who have just had surgery and need to be wheeled down to the vending machine to buy more of the junk food snacks that caused their gallbladder to go kaput in the first place. Even my old spare is better than that. But I guess if you’re just trying to get from your apartment to the car, it’ll do. If you’re looking to get into winter sports, you might want a new one, though.”

“Are you into winter sports?”

“Me?” She laughed. “No, I’m an indoors girl, me. Why, are you looking for a new hobby?”

“Maybe,” he admitted. They headed inside, and going up in the elevator, he asked: “So, what do you do?”

“For hobbies? I collect miniatures and paint them. Heroes and villains, that sort of thing.”

“Oh. That sounds…” Incredibly boring. “Nice.”

She smirked, as if she could read his thoughts. “I’m also pretty good at table tennis. Want to come up and play?”

“Like, seated?”

“Yeah!”

Well, it wasn’t tourney, but it was something, he supposed. “Sure.”

At first glance, Elle’s apartment seemed to have the same layout as his and Gil’s, but where theirs only had closet doors on the right side of the hallway, hers had two more rooms in that direction.

It was also a lot more colorful. The walls were painted light blue, with turquoise doors, and the hallway lamp created a pattern of wavy shadows over them.

The living room area was twice the size of his own, with furniture made of fine wood that looked hand-carved. The room was dominated by two paintings, one showing a giant wave and the other a fish with needle-sharp teeth coming right at the viewer.

“That fish doesn’t creep you out?” Jay asked.

She didn’t pause in putting the groceries away; presumably he wasn’t the first guest to ask that question. “No. I study marine biology. Anglerfish are my jam.”

A few of the decorations looked expensive, but there were also little metal figurines crowding one of the bookshelves, and he went over to look. Some of them he recognized from social studies, others from real life. It was weird, seeing old allies and foes like this, memorialized in painted metal.

The central piece spread her tentacles wide, a maniacal grin on her face.

“That’s a pretty good Ursula you’ve got there,” he said. “She’s not as, uh, _bloody_ in real life, though.”

“I was _very_ angry at my mom when I painted that one,” Elle said, chuckling a little. “It’s actually the first one I bought with my own money.”

“Your mom?”

She came over and pointed to the little red-haired figure embracing a black-haired one. “Ariel.”

“Wait. You’re a princess?”

“Yeah,” she said with an embarrassed shrug.

“But I thought this was, like, a mediocre part of town.”

“Middle class,” she said. “And it is. It’s just also accessible, close to campus, and safe.”

“Right. Because your parents don’t want you hanging around a wild bunch of college kids.”

“Exactly.”

He hesitated for a second before asking the next question. “Is that why you were angry at your mom?”

“Oh, who remembers anymore? They can be a bit… much.” She made a wry face and then grinned. “They’re the ones who started buying me heroes. Then when I got older, I bought villains instead. Only a few of the heroes are my own purchases. Quasimodo, Vannelope, Megara...”

She pointed them out, and Jay spotted another, far too familiar figure behind them. Automatically, he reached out and turned Jafar towards the wall.

Elle stopped speaking and looked up at him curiously.

“Sorry,” he said, though he couldn’t bring himself to undo it.

“It’s fine. You can move them if you want, I don’t mind.”

Even from the back, Jafar was unsettling to look at. Jay tore away his gaze and nodded towards the kitchen table instead. “So, table tennis?”

“Right! I’ll get the net.”

In comparison to tourney, table tennis was pretty tame, more like a live action video game than anything that really sent the pulse racing, but Jay found that just bouncing a ball around was actually a lot of fun.

Elle was a good player, too. Sure, she had the advantage of more experience, plus that the spare wheelchair she lent him was a tad too small for him and bulkier than her new one, but the result was that he had to work hard to keep up with her.

In the end, he was the one to score the final points, winning the game with 12-10, but it could just as easily have been the other way around.

“You’re good,” she said, brushing the hair out of her face.

“So are you.”

“You know, I spend a lot of time over at the university, so I may not always be here, but if you feel like playing again, just ring my doorbell whenever. Granted, I suspect that if you keep practicing, you’ll kick my ass every time, but… that’s okay.”

“Thanks,” he said, returning her smile. “Maybe I will.”


	9. JAY AND GIL: ZEROES OR HEROES?

Having a friend nearby was useful for those times when Gil was working and both Carlos and Mal were busy. There were still long stretches of time when Jay was alone, but he could fill it with exercise, and trips in the car – though the latter did make him somewhat ashamed of the waste of gas.

In the end, he had to admit that the problem wasn’t just boredom, but that everything felt like he was just stalling. Plus, it wasn’t fair to leave it up to Gil to support them both.

Jay started looking at job listings, but apart from construction work, there wasn’t much that was part-time and unqualified. He browsed through the university brochures, hoping to find a topic that would stir his enthusiasm, with no success.

He had called a bakery about a job, and the baker sounded pretty dubious over the phone, but promised to call back when he’d spoken to his wife, so when Jay got a call from a new number he answered.

“Hi,” a woman’s voice said. “Clio, Muse News. I…”

“No comment,” he said, hanging up.

There weren’t many calls from reporters anymore, but they always put him in a bad mood. He’d searched himself online a while ago and instantly regretted it, seeing what kind of garbage came up.

When the baker called back a little while later to tell him he didn’t get the job, it just felt like the foregone conclusion of a shitty day.

The next morning, Gil came in with the mail, frowning slightly.

“Did you do this?” he asked, handing over an open newspaper to Jay at the breakfast table.

There was a grainy image of Gil on the page, next to a higher-resolution one of Dr. Sweet, and the headline: “SON OF GASTON A HERO”

Jay took the newspaper and read the next part: “Dr. Sweet, head of the team that operated on Jay Ibn Jafar, praises the tourney star’s travel companion Gil Legume for his skill and resourcefulness.”

He flipped to the front page and wasn’t surprised to see the words Muse News, or the post-it note beneath that said “Call me! Clio” and a phone number.

“Wow, she doesn’t give up, does she?”

“He called me a hero.”

“Well, you are,” Jay said absent-mindedly as he kept reading.

“In the paper, where everyone can see! Because you told him to.”

Jay looked up. “Shouldn’t I have?”

Gil sighed and sat down, tucking his hands in under his arms. “I don’t know. I always thought it would feel good, being a hero. But how am I supposed to live up to this? I can’t exactly go around chopping people’s legs off!”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Jay said with a chuckle. “I wanted to set the record straight, give you the credit you deserve, and Dr. Sweet agreed with me. That’s all. No obligations. Though I know that if the need arises, you’ll be there to help out, because I know _you_ , and that’s the kind of guy you are.”

Gil contemplated that. “Are there any perks? Like, an official list of heroes?”

“What, you want me to ask Ben to knight you?”

“Shut up!”

Gil laughed and tossed a bread roll at Jay, who caught it, cut it open, and started to spread marmalade on it.

“Who’s that you’re supposed to call?” Gil asked.

“Some reporter.”

“Why? What does she want?”

“An interview, I guess.”

Jay skimmed the accolades peppering the article: “...remarkable presence of mind in the face of danger…Jay would certainly have died but for his friend’s innovative use of everyday tools….”

He reached for his phone. One interview wouldn’t kill him.

On the third ring, she picked up, sounding very perky. “Clio, Muse News.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” he said. “This is Jay. I got your newspaper. Thanks for the article.”

“You’re welcome! I’m glad to hear you’re finally willing to talk to us.”

“That remains to be seen. What do you want to talk about?

“I want you to write a sports column.”

Jay paused with the bread roll halfway to his mouth. “Say what?”

“A sports column. Tourney matches, horse races, that sort of thing.”

“Why me? I’m not a writer.”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m a very good editor. And your name is currency right now. With the right promotion, we can increase our circulation by a lot. Might even sell some more ads.”

That sounded suspiciously like standard reporter bullshit in a more palatable package, but he looked around the room, seeing all the things they still had left to buy.

“Let’s set up a meeting,” he said. If he was going to make a decision like this, he wanted to at least see her face, figure out if he could trust her word.

* * *

They met for lunch at the library café, and when Jay arrived he spotted her standing by the entrance and recognized her by the ponytail. Right. The same woman who had tried to talk to him when he went to see the coach.

“Nice to see you, Jay,” she said, holding the door open. “I hope we can work out a deal that’ll be good for both of us. Take a seat, I’ll order. What are you having?”

“Just black coffee.”

She tilted her head and smiled. “Did I mention that this lunch is on me?”

That put him in her debt right from the start and made him a little antsy, but he wasn’t about to turn down free lunch. “Ham and cheese panini, then.”

“Excellent!”

She went up to the counter, and he heard her order a caramel cloud macchiato and a chicken and hummus protein bowl as well as his meal. She returned to their table with a tray of food.

“Now,” she told him. “You wanted to meet in person, here I am. Let me tell you what I had in mind. One column a week, a bit more narrative than just the basic scores, you know, gauge the mood of the audience, mention which goals you personally found most impressive, things like that.”

“You said you could increase your circulation using my name,” he pointed out. “How are you going to do that if all I talk about is sports?”

“You could add in some color here and there. How it feels to watch a tourney game again. That they don’t have any accessible toilets at the ACU stadium. Which they don’t, by the way, you should go beforehand. Just a little bit here and there, and let us spin it for headlines.”

He pushed away the plate of food. “Okay, if you think one good interview makes up for all the bullshit you guys have been pulling since I came back…”

“Hey!” she protested. “Don’t lump Muse in with the gossip rags! Before that interview, we’ve only written about you three times: when you first returned, when the royal family took you in, and when you left the palace. All of those articles were short, factual, and to the point. No speculation, official statements only. And let me tell you, based on the way our sales skyrocketed this week, we could have made a fortune if we’d been just a tad less conscientious, but Muse has a reputation to maintain. Our photographers don’t hide in bushes.”

Thinking back, Jay couldn’t find any incident that would disprove what she was saying, and he frowned down on his sandwich. “I’m not giving you a sob story.”

“I’m not asking you for one.” She took a sip of her frothy coffee. “Little nuggets will go a long way. I will, however, ask you for exclusivity.”

“What does that mean?”

“That you don’t tell any other publication things you haven’t already told us.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, that’s not an issue.”

They ate in silence for a minute, and Clio dabbed at her mouth with the napkin before saying,

“Tell you what. I’ll give you veto rights over anything we publish about you, including headlines. If you say anything is off limits, then it’s off limits, whether it concerns your injury, family, love life…”

“What do you…” Jay paused and lowered his voice. “What do you know about my love life?”

She smirked. “I said we don’t _publish_ speculation, but honey, I’m older than I look. You’re not doing anything I haven’t seen before.”

Was she trying to blackmail him? It was the sort of thing people would say didn’t happen in Auradon, but Jay knew better than to trust that. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” she said, spreading her hands. “I’m just saying, you can trust us.”

Jay wasn’t so sure he did trust her, but he needed the money, and the way she described the arrangement, he figured he could live with it. “So what would you pay me?”

“A hundred dollars per column, preferably one column weekly.”

“Four hundred dollars a month. That’s not very much.”

“It’s not much work either.”

He slowly spun his coffee cup around, and made up his mind. “Two columns a week, two hundred dollars for each. You said my name could sell papers, it’s only fair if I get some of the profit.”

“Very well,” she said with a shrug that implied she had expected a harder bargain. “I’ll write up a contract.”

* * *

Jay had to admit that after what happened when he talked to Coach Jenkins, he rather dreaded going to a tourney game, and the vain part of him that wanted to look just a little bit more normal reared its ugly head as he was practicing with the prosthetic.

The sessions were both longer and more frequent now, and for the most part he used his regular crutches for them rather than the parallel bars, which was why he dared to ask, “Could I take the leg home?”

Phil and Robinson exchanged a thoughtful glance.

“My balance is a lot better,” Jay pointed out. “I know how to don and doff it properly, and not to overuse it, and how to wash the liners, and all of it.”

“Yeah,” Robinson admitted, “but you also have a tendency to push yourself just a little bit further than we like.”

“I won’t. I promise, I won’t! I can come back with it after Saturday if that’s better.”

“What’s on Saturday?”

“Oh, um, a tourney game.” Jay’s cheeks heated. “I’m covering it for Muse News. I’d just feel better if… if I could have the leg on. I know it’s longer than an hour, but I’d be sitting down for the most part.”

Robinson gave him a sympathetic smile. “Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any. What do you say, Phil? Should we trust the kid to pace himself?”

The satyr was frowning. “Muse News?”

“Yeah.” Phil’s expression made Jay suspicious. “Why, is something wrong?”

Phil opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again.

“Clio said it wasn’t a gossip rag,” Jay said slowly.

“It’s not,” Robinson said. “It’s just a regular newspaper. A bit on the lighter side, but not exactly a tabloid. I think it’s great that you’re working for them.”

“Hm,” Phil grunted. He admitted, reluctantly, “No, it’s not a gossip rag. I suppose it’s got prestige, and all that. It just still has a pretty loose relationship to the truth.”

That wasn’t very reassuring, but any misgivings Jay had were easily brushed aside when the next thing Phil said was:

“Alright, take the leg home. But any sores or falls, and we’re taking it back.”

“That’s not actually—” Robinson started.

“That’s totally fair,” Jay said. “Thank you so much! Can I wear it to go?”

Phil rolled his eyes, but there was a smile lurking in the corners of his mouth as he said, “Knock yourself out, kid.”

Jay punched the air.

* * *

**Mal:** Wish I could come with you guys.

**Jay:** Since when are you into tourney?

**Mal:** We never hang out anymore. :-(

**Mal:** And it beats council meetings.

**Jay:** You’re texting during a council meeting? Isn’t that a terrible breach of royal etiquette?

**Mal:** Don’t tell.

**Jay:** Do you want me to steal a team sweater for you?

**Mal:** gtg

Jay grinned as he put the phone away. Someone must have caught Mal texting. It seemed she still had some way to go before she was the perfect queen – but that was the way he liked her.

The water stopped running in the bathroom, and Gil came to join him. “Not ready yet?”

“In a minute, sorry.”

Jay finished lacing up his boots, grabbed his crutches, and stood up. He was wearing his baggiest trousers, and when he stood, they met the edge of the boots without any gap in between. It _felt_ a lot different on the right side than the left, but unless you knew what you were looking for, it didn’t _look_ any different.

“Okay, that’s uncanny,” he said with a frown.

Gil smiled. “It looks good, though!”

They left the apartment and got into the elevator, which turned out to already be occupied by Elle.

“Oh, hey!” Gil said. “Are you coming to the tourney too?”

Elle blinked. “What?”

“We’re going to the semi-finals for the college tourney USA Cup,” Jay explained. “I’m covering it for the paper. Carlos and Jane are meeting us at the stadium, you’re welcome to join too, if you like.”

She drew a deep breath and gave him a beatific smile. “Do you know what makes me really happy about having graduated high school?”

“That there aren’t any mandatory tourney games?”

“Bingo. Anyway, I can’t, I’ve got a lecture on invertebrate zoology.”

“Oh yeah, that sounds so much better than tourney,” Jay said sarcastically.

“What’s inverte… what you said?” Gil asked.

“Invertebrates are animals without a spine. Molluscs, squids, jellyfish, things like that. Zoology is how they live.”

“Oh!” Gil thought about it. “That does sound interesting.”

“Two against one!” Elle laughed.

They went outside and started making their way over to their cars. Jay concentrated on getting his gait right, and the other two kept pace.

“How’s the new leg working for you?” Elle asked.

“Slow,” Jay admitted. “But I know it won’t always be, so that’s alright. It feels great just to be walking again.” He winced. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, pfft!” Elle waved that away. “You have every right to be happy! There’s no need to pussyfoot around me.”

She smirked, and Jay bit his lip.

“I guess I just don’t want to put my foot in my mouth,” he countered.

“Well, even if you get off on the wrong foot, you don’t have to feel like a heel.”

A double whammy. This was beginning to resemble one of their table tennis matches. “I think it’s best to keep on my toes.”

Elle opened her mouth to reply, but Gil beat her to it.

“You’d better put your best foot forward, if we’re going to make it to the game on time.” His smile was wide and triumphant, but wavered after a second. “Did I do it right?”

“Absolutely,” Jay said warmly.

“You win,” Elle assured him. “And you’re right, I’ve got to leg it too. I’ve got a class to get to!”

With that, she rushed off, and Jay groaned as he unlocked the car. “She had to get another one in there.”

“That’s okay,” Gil said and sat down in the car. “I got one, that’s what matters. Now, come on! I can’t wait to see a real tourney game!”

Jay chuckled slightly as he made his way over to the driver’s seat, but there was a cold pit in his stomach. Maybe if he was lucky, some of Gil’s enthusiasm would rub off on him.

* * *

Ever since his accident, Jay had tried to get used to the pitying and uncomfortable stares from strangers. Now he found the lack of them just as disconcerting. There were still a few people who seemed to recognize him, judging by their double-takes and occasional whispers. A few more got that sneer on their faces reserved for Isle kids, but for the most part, he was just one in the crowd. Ignored and invisible, like everyone else. Crutches weren’t a rare sight at the stadium; there was always some player with a twisted ankle or a broken leg. Maybe it should have been some comfort, to be spared the attention, but instead, he felt like a fraud.

Gil and Carlos went off to the concession stand, with Dude trotting along, while Jane showed Jay to their seats.

“I figured lower level, but not too low, because we still need a full overview,” Jane explained as she strode ahead, clearing the way in a manner more self-assured than he’d previously seen in her. “Carlos told me to pick a spot above the Kill Zone, so I chose the seats right… here. What do you think?”

Jay sank down onto the bench. “Perfect.”

Sitting down was a relief, and made him more sympathetic to the one hour rule he’d been given. He wondered how he would ever manage whole days of this.

A little while later, the others returned.

“We got hotdogs!” Gil declared. “And drinks, and chips, but I’ve got those under my jacket because it got too much to carry. Sorry it took so long. Dude knocked over the first tray of hotdogs so we had to buy new ones.

“I got hungry!” Dude said, lying down with his head on his paws. If it had been possible for a dog to pout, he would have. “You should have bought another one for me in the second round!”

“You’ve eaten five,” Carlos said, handing out the hotdogs. “I don’t even eat five hotdogs in one go.”

Gil handed Jay his cola, and got close enough that Jay got a whiff of Gil’s drink too.

“Raspberry?” he asked. “With hotdogs?”

“I love raspberry!” Gil said. “And they wouldn’t serve us beer.”

Jane chuckled a little. “Of course not! We’re not old enough!”

There was polite silence from the Isle kids. Jay tried to recall how old he’d been when he’d had his first alcoholic drink, and failed.

Jane, too, seemed to gauge that this was an area where her perception of reality differed from theirs, and she frowned slightly, but before she had time to say anything else, the music started and the teams marched in.

A few of the players had been in Jay’s old team at Auradon Prep, and others he recognized from last year’s lineup. There were also some new ones, who must have moved in from out of town to start ACU this year.

The other team were from Port Royal University, and though Jay had seen some of them play before, he didn’t recall their names. He figured that as long as he wrote down what each player did, he could check the team websites for player details later.

The referee blew the whistle, and the game started.

At first, it felt okay, like any of the dozens of times Jay had watched a game he wasn’t actually part of, although with the difference of needing to juggle both writing pad and refreshments. After five minutes of that, Gil simply took the soda cup from Jay’s hand and held it up to him. Jay laughed and took a sip, finishing off his hot dog so he could take the cup back.

“So do people actually get killed in the kill zone?” Gil asked, leaning forward as the dragon fire started.

“No,” Jay said.

“Once,” Carlos countered darkly.

“Okay, before the states even united, like, forty years ago.”

“Thirty-six.”

“Carlos quit the team after I left,” Jay told Gil. “He never was too keen on tourney.”

“Just because _you_ think it’s perfectly normal to play a game where people _die on the field_ …”

“Once, thirty-six years ago!” Right then, PRU scored a goal, and Jay held up a hand. “Shh!”

He watched more intently after that, writing down all the important moves, though at times, his pen stilled and he had to force himself to continue.

The strategy was off. The defenders were covering Aziz, who didn’t need it – his moves were almost as good as Jay’s own – and left the center forward wide open for attack. PRU soon got the ball, and they were good, more tactical, but not quite fast enough to dodge the dragon fire.

He was better than them. Used to be better than them. Okay, maybe not all of them, but he could have been a star down there, just like he had been in high school. And even now, he could have given them some pointers, shown them how to take the game up a notch, if anyone wanted his opinion, which they didn’t.

Back in school, he had toyed with the idea of taking up coaching once his tourney career was over, but there was a strict hierarchy to coaching positions – head coaches were taken from pro teams, assistant coaches from old team members, and a year and a half doing high school tourney wasn’t enough for either of those on a college level. Coach Jenkins had been his best shot, and that hadn’t worked out.

He wasn’t a part of that world anymore. Never would be.

The slight tremor in his hand affected his writing, rendering his notes almost illegible. Damn it, he had to shape up to get this done.

A thumb brushed over his left hand, and he turned to meet Gil’s worried gaze.

“Are you okay?” Gil mouthed.

“Trying to be,” Jay whispered back. He turned his hand palm upwards and let Gil hold it, low enough that it wasn’t visible to anyone else.

Taking a deep breath, he jotted down a remark about the great save from the ACU goalie.

* * *

Jay couldn’t help it; he was pretty quiet for the rest of the game, and all the way home. Carlos and Jane noticed, but didn’t pry, for which he was grateful.

Once he and Gil got back to the apartment, Gil stepped into the bedroom, closed the blinds, and then pulled Jay into a hug.

Jay melted into the touch and breathed in Gil’s scent, using it to ease the tension.

“Got to admit,” he said with a weak laugh, “that was pretty rough.”

Gil stroked his back in soft circles. “I know.”

“At least I got all the notes down, for the column. Fuck, I have to write the damned thing, I don’t even know where to start…”

“Jay.” Gil backed off enough to meet his gaze. “Screw the money. We’ll get by. You don’t have to write anything.”

“I want to. Or maybe I don’t. It’s just… otherwise it’s pointless, isn’t it? Why else did I put myself through that, feeling this way?”

He wanted to confess the bubbling anger that lay under all the sadness and disappointment and fear. How dare they be out there, playing, without a care that he could have wiped the floor with them all, once upon a time?

But it was such a stupid, petty anger that Jay was ashamed to admit it, even to Gil. _Especially_ to Gil, who didn’t have that kind of a temper.

Instead Jay sat down and doffed his leg, pushing it into the corner without bothering to do so neatly.

Gil took a step towards it, asking, “Do you want me to put the liner in the…”

“Leave it,” Jay said, and reached out a hand, pulling Gil down to the bed. “I’ll do it later.”

He kissed Gil and entangled his fingers in those blonde locks.

“I’ll call Clio in a moment,” he said. “Though Czernobog knows what I’ll tell her.”


	10. MUSE NEWS IS PROUD TO PRESENT JAY OF THE ISLE

Jay practiced the call by himself several times over while Gil went out for groceries, but still wasn’t prepared for what happened when he made it.

“Hi,” he said when he heard Clio’s greeting. “I… uh… I don’t think I can do this.”

“Ooh, that’s terribly dramatic,” she replied. “Shall I take a guess to the identity of this tormented caller?”

“It’s Jay.”

“That would have been my third guess. What’s wrong, Jay? Tourney game not to your liking?”

“It was a pretty good game,” he admitted. “I just had… all sorts of weird reactions to it.”

“Very un-weird reactions, I should think. I did throw you in the deep end. Terrible of me, of course, could have sent you to hockey, or basketball, but it wouldn’t be half as good. Tourney is what you’re known for, that’s what’ll draw the interest. Once the readers are used to your voice, I can give you some softie assignments.”

“No, Clio, I mean it, I can’t. I don’t even know where to start.”

“Do you have the score?”

“Of course.”

“Each team’s goals? Some impressive moves from the players?”

“Yeah, all of that, I noted it down, like you told me.”

“So you do want to write it. What’s the problem?”

“It’s just…” He hadn’t been able to tell Gil, but there was such a ruthless edge to Clio’s cheerful demeanor that the confession didn’t seem so horrible. “Half of them aren’t half as good as I am, but they still get to play, and I _hate_ them. And that’s not fair, or right, it’s not their fault, it’s not anybody’s fault, and I shouldn’t be so damned angry.”

“Mm,” Clio agreed thoughtfully. “Bitterness is definitely not the angle we want.”

“Clio, this isn’t a story, it’s my life!”

“No, darling, that’s where you’re wrong. Your life is your own, the story is the paper’s, and the former should inform the latter, but they should never be synonymous.”

“That’s…” His pulse was starting to throb in his temple. “I can’t do that. I can’t separate myself like that. I’m sorry, I know I promised, but I’m not doing this. I’m out.”

“You did more than promise. You signed a contract.”

“Well, then I’ll un-sign it.”

She chortled. “Perhaps you should take another look at it. Particularly what comes after the word ‘breach’.”

That made him pause, and look around. There was a pile of stuff in one of the bookshelves, he thought that was where he’d put the contract. Just as he put the phone down, he heard her say, “I’ll wait!”

The contract was in the pile, and he brought it back to the sofa, reading it carefully. When he found the part she’d talked about, he cursed a long streak before picking up the phone. “Four thousand dollars!?”

“Ah, you found it!”

“You bitch!”

“There’s the Isle kid I’ve been told so much about!” she teased.

“You can’t do that! You can’t charge me money for not writing for you!”

“Actually, I can,” she said sweetly. “You signed the contract saying so. And there’s no such thing as un-signing a contract.”

“I don’t have four thousand dollars.”

“Then I guess you’ll just have to write at least ten columns for me, as you originally agreed.”

“You tricked me.”

“Not at all. It’s all there in black and white. You just didn’t read it properly.”

Jay rubbed the edge of his phone against his forehead, trying to think, and didn’t respond to Clio until she called his name three times.

“What?”

“Write whatever you want and send it over. You can hate the players, you can hate me. Call me a bitch ten times, if you want, as long as you’ve got the goals and the rest of it in there too. I’ll edit it down for you, make it palatable, and you’ll get to read and approve it before publication as we agreed.”

He sighed deeply. “You would fit in really well on the Isle.”

“People in Auradon aren’t as different as you think. Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “We have a deal.”

* * *

Jay spent most of the afternoon and evening in the library, trying to write.

The first draft was just the basics, who did what, where and when. He had just sent it off, logged off the computer and was getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

The text from Clio said: “Even Paleontology Weekly isn’t this bone dry. Give it some zing!”

So he returned to the computer and started writing again, this time doing exactly what she’d told him: putting all his thoughts and feelings in, every mistake the teams had made, everything they’d done right, every time he’d been so jealous he could scream, Gil’s hand on his and the way it had grounded him.

Then he went back and deleted half of it. Working to make what was left into something resembling a coherent whole, he felt like Carlos’s mom, stitching a hundred bloody corpses together — though this mutilated creation of his was no fur coat.

“I’m not a writer what do you expect from me?” he wrote. “All I know is tourney and nobody even cares about that. They just want to gawk at me and be happy they're not me and whisper about how this is what happens if you leave perfect Auradon.”

His phone buzzed again, even though he hadn’t sent anything off, and he picked it up.

This time, it was a text from Gil. “Are you coming home soon? It’s snowing.”

Jay stared at the screen and what was implied in those words, and he had to bite down not to curse out loud.

“At least in the jungle I didn’t have to deal with slippery fucking roads,” he wrote into the computer document. “Or money or people’s expectations or this stupid column.”

He sent the column off and logged out once again. This time, Clio could say what she wanted, he was heading home.

There were no texts coming for a while, which he saw as a good sign. It wasn’t until he and Gil were making dinner that his phone buzzed again. This time it was the repeated buzzing that meant an incoming call.

Gil went over to look. “It’s Clio. Should I take it?”

“Would you?” Jay asked, putting down the chopping knife.

“This is Gil on Jay’s phone!” Gil told Clio. “He’ll be right with you.”

Jay rinsed and dried his hands, then reached for the phone. “Hey.”

“Hi! I made the edits. Check them out and let me know if there’s anything else you want changed.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow? We’re making dinner.”

“No, it cannot. We’re a newspaper, we print _news_. Now, go read it like a good boy, it’ll only take you a few minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll read it on my phone, but the library’s closed, so I can’t really do another version.”

There was a pause, then she said, “Don’t you have a computer?”

“Nah, it was part of the stuff I sold to afford a boat.”

“Zeus almighty. Fine, I’ll lend you one tomorrow. After all, you’re staff now, or will be, if this column ever gets published. Read it, then call me back. Bye!”

She hung up on him before he had a chance to answer, and he sighed, opening up his mail to read the edit.

It was still his words, more or less. The bits she had added in were mostly just to glue the sections together, and the word changes here and there shifted the tone rather than the meaning. Yet somehow, she’d managed to weed out the anger and frustration, leaving, if anything, an undertone of wistfulness. The comments he’d made about the play were still there, highs and lows, but giving the impression that he wished all of these talented young lads the best of luck.

“Unbelievable,” he said, staring at the screen.

Gil moved up to read over his shoulder. “It’s not good?”

“No, it’s good, I guess…” Jay winced a little at the final line, ‘Spare a thought for me in winter as the roads get slippery,’ and he amended his statement, “Okay, mostly good.”

This was the fur coat he’d been trying for. Still a little ratty and coarse, perhaps, but it would do the job.

He called her up. “It’s Jay again.”

“Hi, Jay! What’s the verdict?”

“You made me sound so _generous_.”

“Mm. I thought that would be a nice touch. Don’t you agree?”

“I do, but… it’s not true.”

“Jay.” There was a new softness to her voice, though he could still hear her smile. “Sooner or later, you’ll learn to censor your own thoughts. Until then, I’ll do it for you. That stuff you wrote, you knew it wasn’t fair, that’s why you hesitated in the first place. You have great passion, and I like that, I’ll definitely let you make use of it someday. Just not to rant at some unfortunate tourney players whose only real crime is having two whole legs.”

“Phil did say you had a loose relationship to the truth.”

“Oh, please!” she scoffed. “Phil’s still upset that I portrayed Zeus as a devoted family man. What on earth was I supposed to do, say that the most powerful god of all Olympus is an old lech who tried to feel me up during my interview with him? That would have gone down well. By the way, you did _not_ hear it from me.”

Jay gave a snort of laughter, despite himself.

“So do I have your approval to publish?” she asked.

“Can you make a couple of changes first? That part about sparing a thought for me – can you delete that?”

“Too maudlin. You’re right. Consider it done. What else?”

“The signature.”

“You’re not doing this under a pseudonym,” she said, voice a little sharper. “It would defeat the purpose.”

“No, I know. It’s fine. But back in my tourney days, sometimes they’d call me Jay of the Isle. Would that work?”

“Do you like it better than Jay Ibn Jafar?”

“ _So_ much better.”

“Of course, not a problem. Is that all?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Very well. I’ll make the cuts, and you can see your name – your byline– in the paper tomorrow. A pleasure doing business with you!”

“Fuck you, Clio,” he said. “But thank you, too, I guess.”

She was still laughing when she hung up.


	11. WHAT ARE JAY’S INTENTIONS WITH PRINCESS ELLE?

“I read your column,” Mal said, sitting down on the sofa.

She was still wearing the upscale dress suit from the state dinner she’d been at before coming to their apartment, but had kicked off the pumps and unbuttoned the jacket.

“If it _was_ your column,” she continued. “It didn’t sound very… you.”

“Yeah, Clio watered it down for public consumption,” Jay said. “But like 90% of it is stuff I did actually write. I’m doing another one tomorrow for swords and shields.”

“Are you okay with that?” she asked softly. “Carlos said you were pretty shook up after the game, and Gil told me about the contract.”

Jay raised his eyebrows – Mal and Carlos talking to each other was an everyday occurrence, but he hadn’t known she kept in touch with Gil.

“What did Gil say?” he asked.

“That Clio screwed you over, and you seem oddly at peace with that.”

“She did. I am. I don’t know. I can’t explain it. What she did was cynical, and calculating, and downright unethical.” Even saying the words made an explanation come to mind, and he finished, slowly: “It makes me feel at home.”

Mal mulled that over and then nodded. “That’s kind of fucked up.”

“Maybe it is, but I don’t think I’ll ever fully be rid of the Isle in me. I like not having to pretend that I am.”

“Mm. I get it.”

“Anyway, it’s more than that.” He brushed his hair aside and scratched his neck, searching for words. “She’s like a perky-ass bulldozer running all over me, and that reminds me that… that I can cope. I’m not going to break.”

“The rest of us haven’t been very good at that, huh?” Mal asked, doing her best to smile.

“Except the hospital people, Phil especially. I guess it’s a professional thing, for them. Or maybe it’s a Thebian thing, because he and Clio may not like each other, but neither one of them gives me an inch.”

Jay laughed, and Mal joined in the laughter.

“Okay,” she said. “I guess it makes sense. I was wondering if I’d have to ask Ben to put the kibosh on Muse News.”

“Shit, please don’t!” he said with a grimace. “It’s bad enough that Elle’s all ready to fight for my honor. She’s adamant that there’s always a way out of a bad contract and that I can’t trust anyone who would exploit me like Clio does. I guess it makes sense, with her family history.”

“Elle says that?”

There was a pointed undertone to Mal’s voice, and Jay frowned.

“Yeah. I’ve talked to you about Elle, right? Upstairs neighbor, uses a wheelchair, went to Auradon prep with us?”

“Yes, I remember Elle. You two get along pretty well, don’t you?”

Her meaning dawned on Jay. “We play table tennis and talk, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t _have_ to be all,” Mal said with a shrug.

“Come on, Mal, that’s not funny. You know how serious the Auradonians are about these things. I can’t have a side piece even if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

“I didn’t say side piece.”

“So what _are_ you saying?” Jay straightened up, fists clenched and heart racing. “I know Gil’s not your favorite person in the world, but if you’re suggesting that I should just dump him for Elle, then you’re way out of line!”

His budding rage died away just as quickly when he saw the confusion on her face.

“Wait, you and Gil?”

“Well, yeah. You didn’t know?”

Mal fell back against the cushions, eyes closed, and groaned. “Oh, shit, I’m such an idiot!”

Jay grinned, feeling more charitable towards Mal than he had in a while. “What exactly did you think we’ve been doing these past six months?”

“I don’t know! Not that!” She scrunched up her face and nodded. “Oh, everything makes so much more sense now. That’s why you wanted to leave the palace. You’ve probably been at it like rabbits ever since you got this place.”

“Rabbits may be overstating it,” he said, though if he was honest with himself, not by much.

“Do the others know?”

“Evie and Carlos, sure. I’m pretty sure Gil has told Uma and Harry, too. The hero kids? I don’t think they know it’s even a possibility.”

“And clearly Auradon has rubbed off on me so that I couldn’t see what was right in front of me.” Mal sat back up again and sighed. “I’m sorry. Of course you shouldn’t dump Gil. He’s a great boyfriend for you, whatever else he may be.”

“Thank you. I think.”

“You’ll need to talk to that Elle girl, though. Clear things up.”

That was an uncomfortable thought. “I told you, there’s nothing going on.”

“I believe you, but like you said, Auradonians take this shit seriously. And you haven’t told her about you and Gil, right? So are you sure _she_ knows there’s nothing going on?”

Jay quietly played through every interaction he’d had with Elle, filtered through the Auradon expectations of romance.

“Well, fuck,” he said.

* * *

For the next couple of days, Jay postponed talking to Elle. He’d rebuffed girls’ advances before, usually with a smile and a wink that made them too dazed to even be upset, but Elle hadn’t actually _made_ any advances, and that made it hard to know where to start. Not to mention that she was a friend. If any of his other friends got fresh when he wasn’t up for it, he’d push their face away and say “Not today, sunshine!” but that was way too direct for Auradonians.

Gil noticed his odd mood on the first day and asked, “Something wrong?” while drawing circles on Jay’s forehead to smooth out his frown.

What was he to say? That he might inadvertently have led their neighbor to believe he had a crush on her? It wasn’t like Gil would have any solution; it would only upset him for no good reason.

“I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” he replied instead.

“That swords and shields column?”

“No. Shit! What time is it?” Jay dug out his cellphone and checked. Still an hour left to the start of the tournament – he wasn’t late yet, but it was time to get ready.

Watching people sword fight actually turned out to be easier on his mind than the tourney game had been. Maybe it was because he already had enough to worry about, or maybe because he could still imagine himself crossing swords with people someday, if not in an arena, then in real life. After all, John Silver had captained a ship with even more pieces missing.

Clio wasn’t pleased with the column, however, and they did three rounds before she was satisfied enough to let it go to print. He couldn’t blame her, since he’d definitely been distracted while he wrote it.

But with all that done, two days until his next assignment, and Gil at work, there was no way to put off the inevitable anymore. He texted Elle, asking her if he could come over.

If she noticed his frame of mind, she didn’t say anything, but after she beat him 11-6 at table tennis, she put down the paddle and crossed her arms.

“Okay, what’s going on? You’re not usually this terrible.”

He sighed, rubbing his hands against the armrests on the wheelchair she had lent him. “The thing is, Mal said…” No, that wasn’t the right angle. “You and I get along well, right? We have fun together.”

“Of course.”

“We’re friends.”

“Yes.” She cocked her head. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

“No, I…” He wetted his lips. “I wanted to make sure that you know… that that’s all we are. Friends. And that’s all we’re going to be.”

It took a second, then the hurt registered on her face and she looked away for a moment to compose herself before replying. “I have never flirted with you. Not once.”

“I know.”

“I’ve never made _any_ sort of suggestion…”

“I know!”

“Then why?” Her eyes were tearing up, but her jaw set in anger. “Why is it so damned necessary that you let me know that you don’t find me attractive?”

“I do! I mean, I don’t… not... That’s not what this is about! Mal thought…”

“Mal’s never even _talked_ to me! What? Mal thought we were together? All you had to say is, ‘No, we’re not.’”

“She was concerned that you might think…”

“That the poor crippled girl might think you were on her level now.”

“Don’t use that word about yourself!” he said sharply, and she bit back:

“I’ll use whatever darned word I please! I have been here longer than you!”

“You’re twisting this around!”

“Am I? I’ve seen the kind of girls you used to date.”

He looked down, too ashamed to answer for a moment, because while he had never much cared for the girls who swarmed around him, it was true that he’d tended to pick the ones who would look best on his arm.

“I don’t want you, Jay,” she said, sounding tired. “I never have. Sure, you’re pretty, and fun, and a lot nicer than I used to think, but I’ve never wanted… anyone like you. But I’m a freaking princess! I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m beneath your notice.”

“You’re not! Fuck, Elle…” This was a worse mess than he could have imagined, and the only way out of it he could think of was the truth, or some version of it, at least. “I’m seeing someone. And it’s pretty serious.”

“Really?” she asked, anger tempered by curiosity. “Who?”

“I… can’t actually tell you who. It’s kind of complicated.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Is it Mal?”

“What? No! You do know she’s marrying Ben, right?”

“Well, that would be complicated!”

“It’s not Mal.”

“Who, then? I can’t recall seeing you with any other women, not since Evie left…” She pondered that and shook her head. “Can’t see it be Evie. She could easily get out of her relationship with Doug, if that was the case.”

“Can you please stop guessing?” he asked, not sure whether to be amused or horrified.

“It isn’t Audrey, is it?”

Definitely horrified. “Why would it be _Audrey_?”

“Because her family is super snooty and would never allow it.” She leaned forward, scrutinizing his face. “This isn’t something you’re making up to calm me down, is it?”

“I’m not making him up, I just can’t tell people!”

Her eyes widened. “Oh!”

“What?” Replaying his last words in his head, he realized _what_ , and buried his face in his hands, groaning.

“I’ve heard rumors about the Isle kids,” she said slowly. “But you’re so… masculine.”

That made him look up, affronted. “Any reason I wouldn’t be?”

She was too occupied with thinking to reply. “You and Gil.”

“Who is also very masculine,” he pointed out.

Suddenly, she giggled. Of all the reactions he could have expected, this wasn’t one.

“What?”

“Oh, Gods,” she gasped. “Jay, I’m so sorry. I know I hate it when I’m out with a friend, or my sister, and someone asks if they’re my caregiver. But I totally thought Gil was your caregiver!”

That stung a little, and he grimaced. “He’s kind of had to be, sometimes, but no. Not at the core of it.”

“He’s your boyfriend,” she said, as if trying the word out.

“Yeah.”

“Isle guys can have boyfriends.”

“I guess. I mean, we didn’t used to call it that. There’s no dating, on the Isle. People hook up, fool around, sometimes they stick together and decide to become a family.”

“And that’s normal? Nobody cares?”

He shrugged. “In some corners, it’s super important who is doing what to whom, and they can give you crap about it if they think you’re going about it the wrong way, but I never bothered with those assholes.”

She was silent for a long time after that, and he watched her intently, trying to gauge her reaction. At least she wasn’t upset any longer, and there didn’t seem to be any judgement either, just curiosity and what seemed like melancholy.

At long last, she asked, “And what about the girls? They do it too?”

“Yeah.”

“Which ones?”

“I can’t tell you that.” He had a feeling that he knew why she was asking, and so he added, “A lot of them, though. And no Isle girl would think it was strange, even if it wasn’t what she was into.”

“It’s not like that here,” she said quietly.

“Believe me, I know.”

It hadn’t even taken him a week to figure that one out, between the locker room talk and the dating rituals. The memory of his team-mates’ disgusted faces when he’d even hinted at another option — and how quickly he’d had to backtrack and play it off as a joke — still made his skin crawl, and he rubbed his shoulder to rid himself of the feeling.

“My turn to ask questions,” he continued.

“Okay?”

“You said there were rumors about the Isle kids. Doesn’t it ever happen between Auradonians?”

“Those are mostly just rumors too,” she said, looking down at her hands. “It’s generally assumed to be men who… well, who can’t be real men. Or real women, if it’s a woman.”

“Not us masculine types,” Jay said dryly.

Her cheeks flushed. “Right. It’s pretty scandalous. There was a case with a guest lecturer from Sherwood University, he got accused of immoral conduct and was sent back home. Their board of directors got really huffy, said it was an insult to one of their finest staff.”

“That he was sent home or that he would sleep with a guy?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t dare to ask. Mom was always so insistent on me having to aim for the right kind of happy ending.”

“Happy ending, huh?” Jay smiled a little and shook his head. “I never thought I’d have one of those, but with Gil… okay, so we hit a huge-ass bump in the road, but even at the worst of it, even when I thought I was dying… I was happy to be with him. Still am.”

“That’s got to be nice.”

Her voice was so low and sad that he rolled closer, taking her hand.

“Elle. Hey, Elle. Don’t you dare sit here and feel sorry for yourself, when I have just told you that there are plenty of Isle girls out there who would love to get themselves a piece of that. Because guess what? You _are_ attractive.”

She burst into giggles at that and shooed his hand away. “Like you’re qualified to judge.”

“I am!” he said, mock insulted. “I totally am! Gil’s the one who’s particular, I like all sorts. You’ll never find a judge more qualified than me.”

“Too big for your britches, that’s what you are,” she said softly. “But thanks.”

That evening when he returned home, he sat on the sofa, thinking about Elle and others like her. If Isle kids and Auradon kids weren’t so different, then there must be hundreds, thousands even, who quashed their desires and didn’t dare to hope for another kind of life. They’d been given everything that Jay had ever dreamed about, not just in terms of material needs, but in care, and love, and support, but denied this very crucial part.

It was like a cruel joke – one side could fuck whoever and love no one, and the other could express love freely, but only to a particular type of person.

The door slammed, and Gil stepped into the living room, lighting the lamp. “Hey. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking.” Jay reached out a hand, and Gil sat down beside him. “I was over at Elle’s. Mal thought she had a crush on me, so I wanted to sort it out. Turns out she doesn’t. In fact, I think she may be like you.”

“Like me how?”

“Only interested in her own sex.”

Gil looked interested. “I didn’t know Auradonians did that.”

“They don’t. Or they do, but… they’re not allowed. Which means Auradon kids don’t even know how to find each other.”

“Huh. Can we do something to help?”

“I don’t know. I hope so, but I really don’t know how.” He caressed Gil’s cheek. “It makes me really grateful I found you, though. We got the best of both worlds.”

“Fruit and fucking.”

Jay burst out laughing. “Okay, there’s more to it than that.”

“Nothing better than fruit and fucking,” Gil insisted. He went over to the fridge and fetched an orange, peeling it as he spoke. “Especially both at once. Meet me in the bedroom?”

Still laughing, Jay shook his head, drinking in the sight of Gil, who looked particularly glorious in the warm lamp light, with that wicked grin as he licked a bit of orange juice from his thumb, a golden lock fallen in front of his glittering brown eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” he said.


	12. JAY AND GIL BREAK INTO NEW CAREERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it turns out, the United States of Auradon has access to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. :-)

Clio had never put any sort of restrictions on the laptop, which meant that the first thing Jay did was to download those privacy programs Carlos had shown him back in school, and after that, he and Gil both used it for whatever the hell they felt like.

So when Jay, doing his exercises in the bedroom, heard a plain customer service voice from the living room talking about various tumors, he assumed Gil was watching some news show or documentary.

Then the same sentences were repeated again: “Some benign tumors require no intervention and can merely be observed, but sometimes surgical removal is needed. This can usually be done without any major complications, unless the tumor has a particularly precarious placement.”

A pause, then a different voice: “Precarious: a) dependent on chance circumstances, unknown conditions, or uncertain developments; b) characterized by a lack of security or stability that threatens with danger.”

The first voice returned: “Malignant tumors can grow through the body’s surrounding tissues and create metastases.”

Switch of voice again: Metastasis: a) change of position, state, or form; b) the spread of a disease-producing agency (such as cancer cells) from the initial or primary site of disease to another part of the body.”

And back: “Some of them can be surgically removed, while others require long-term medical treatment or magical intervention. The most aggressive tumors are resistant even to magic, as the spells are unable to differentiate the tumor from the surrounding tissue. For instance, a spell to remove a tumor in the liver can end up removing the liver itself.”

Pretty grim stuff. Jay paused and listened, wondering what had gotten Gil interested in this particular subject. Then the voice repeated the same sentence for the third time, and he got up to see what was going on.

Rather than watching a show, Gil was reading an e-book of some sort, with yellow highlights moving across the screen as the voice spoke.

“What are you doing?” Jay asked, and Gil paused, beaming up at him.

“Oh, hey! It’s a new program.” Gil angled the computer so that Jay could see as he pointed and explained. “It reads the book out loud, and also highlights the text, so I can read the text and hear it at the same time. That’s two ways of learning at once! Isn’t that cool? It’s so much easier, and the highlights means I don’t get lost. Then there’s the dictionary, and it will read me the dictionary words, although that’s automated, the actual book is a person. And there are videos too, like _so_ many videos of people doing stuff and showing them, and that means I can _see_ it too. Seeing, and hearing, and reading, and it’s all been approved for schools and stuff. Did you know all this?”

“No,” Jay said, pulling up a kitchen chair to sit down next to Gil. “Why are you learning about tumors?”

“It’s for work. They said it would be really helpful if I had the highschool science classes, so I’m starting with biology. I talked to Fairy Godmother, she said I could even sit in on some of the labs if I want. Then I’ll do the other science classes, and maybe math… we’ll see how long it takes. I could end up taking all of them.”

Jay frowned. “You want to graduate from high school?”

“Not _graduate_. Although, I can’t get a permanent position without a highschool diploma, but that’s okay, they always need temps, they’re so understaffed.” Gil’s gaze was drawn back to the computer screen, and he tapped his fingernails against the keyboard. “I forgot the terms again. Hang on, just let me go through it one more time.”

Jay searched for words. “You know, maybe you should just apply for a different job.”

The enthusiasm drained from Gil’s face, and he turned around, looking blank. “What?”

“You’re already working full time, and now all this? It seems a bit much.”

“I’m good at my job,” Gil said slowly. “I help people, and they like me.”

“Okay. Yeah. But if they’re making these demands of you, maybe it’s not worth it.”

Gil pushed his chair back and stood up. “You don’t get to tell me to quit!”

“I’m not. I’m just saying, you’re clearly struggling already…”

_“Fuck_ you, Jay!”

The outburst was so unlike anything Gil had ever done before that Jay just sat there, dumbfounded.

“I have supported you all this time, while you _struggled_. I never told you that you couldn’t do it. You could at least _try_ to support me back! I can learn things! Not the way Carlos does it, I can’t breeze into a room and grab a book and learn it by heart before I leave. I know I’m slow. But I’m not an idiot.”

“I know that,” Jay said softly.

“Do you? Because I didn’t.” Gil sat back down, but on the sofa, too far away to touch. “All my life, all of my teachers have yelled at me, and beaten me, and called me names, and I know they were villains, but… I never even knew all this stuff existed. I thought I was… Dr. Liddell made me do some tests.”

A spike of fear shot through Jay at that notion, though it was submerged by everything else Gil was telling him.

“She says I’m right at the…” Gil snapped his fingers repeatedly in frustration. “Not cup. Different word.”

“Cusp,” Jay said.

“That’s right. I dip in some areas, like learning words, and I don’t plan so well.” He gave a wry smile. “Big surprise, huh? But on average, she says that with the right help, I’m not too dumb for highschool. And I thought I was, Jay.” His voice broke. “I really thought I was.”

Jay got up, moving over to the sofa so he could take Gil’s hand in his own.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know all of this was going on with you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gil raised his shoulder in a half shrug. “You had enough to worry about.”

“No. No, you’re right, you’ve supported me, and I need to do the same for you.” Jay caressed Gil’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Of course you should take the classes, if that’s what you want. Of course you should stick with a job you take pride in. I’m going to do everything I can to help you out, okay?”

Gil nodded. “It’s like… I don’t even know how to explain it.” He sniffled a little. “Okay. Like with your leg, right? Most of it is still there, like the knee and all that. And that makes it easier for you to learn to walk again, than if it was off higher up.”

“Sure.”

“But what if you thought it wasn’t? If it was invisible or something, and people told you it was off at the hip, and that’s what you believed. Only it’s not true. That’s what it’s like for me. Turns out, with the right tools I can be… almost normal. It’s a whole new fucking world.”

“Yeah,” Jay whispered. “That’s great, babe.”

“I just wish someone had told me three years ago. Or twelve years ago. You know? My life would have been so different.”

There was no anger in the statement, but it bubbled up in Jay instead. Another item on the list of ways they had been screwed over, and everyone was so keen to help mend the damage that nobody had cared to prevent.

“Can I ask you something?” he said. “I don’t want to upset you again.”

“What?” Gil asked cautiously.

“You said Dr. Liddell tested you. Why?”

To his relief, Gil only laughed.

“I knew you wouldn’t like that!”

“It’s just that I don’t trust shrinks.”

“I asked her to, okay?” Gil shook his head, smiling. “You’re not my parent, Jay, you don’t have to look out for me all the time.”

“Fair. But…”

“We’ve been talking for a while, actually. Since I started working at the hospital.”

“What!?”

“I needed someone to talk to. Like, an adult. And I love my mom and all, but she can’t help me with Auradon stuff.”

Jay had met Gil’s mom, and he severely doubted that she could help anyone even with Isle stuff, but he had to admit that Gil had a point. Back when he first started Auradon Prep, he’d turned to Coach Jenkins for the questions that needed an adult point of view, and his team mates for the rest. Even the Fairy Godmother had been helpful on occasion.

“Therapy, though?” he asked.

“Turns out it’s free for us Isle kids.”

“Of course it is, they think we’re all fucked up.”

Gil gave Jay an incredulous look. “We kind of _are_.”

“So do you think I should go see her too?” Jay asked sarcastically.

“Depends. Do you mean ‘see her’ as in break her kneecaps for talking to your boyfriend?”

“No,” Jay said, because kneecaps seemed like overkill. Threats and yelling, maybe.

“Then sure. Why not?” Gil smirked a little, then shook his head and stood up. “I’ve got to get back to that text, and try to learn the names of those tumors. I mean, I get that some aren’t so bad and others can kill you, but I can’t remember which is which.”

“Malignant tumors are the ones that can kill you.”

“Yeah, okay, but how do I remember that?”

“Mal’s the villain kid and Ben’s the hero kid. Malignant and benign. The malignant ones will fuck your shit up.”

Gil stopped short and only stared at Jay.

“That’s how I learned it,” Jay said with a shrug.

Instead of returning to the computer, Gil went up to the windows and closed the newly-bought curtains. Jay smiled, knowing what was to come.

“I’m never forgetting that ever,” Gil said, pressing a deep kiss to Jay’s lips before pulling him out of the sofa. “Come on, help me out with the rest!”

* * *

Dr. Liddell’s office was like a fancy living room, with four large armchairs and a fireplace. The bookshelves had glass doors, and her laptop was lying closed on one of those old-fashioned writing desks with a dozen little drawers.

The doctor herself took a pad and pen and sat down in one of the armchairs, straightening her pale blue pencil skirt before she gestured for Jay to take a seat too. “Welcome, Jay. What can I do for you?”

Jay remained standing. He’d opted to wear the prosthetic for this, and while he was well aware that he still didn’t cut a very intimidating figure, he preferred to keep the high ground for a little while longer.

“You can tell me what you and Gil have been talking about.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Do you know what confidentiality is? It means whatever I hear in my professional capacity, I don’t share with outsiders.”

“I’m not an outsider, I’m his… friend.”

“Do you have his written permission?”

“No.”

“Then as far as I’m concerned, you’re an outsider.”

“Oh, the Auradon ethics strike again!” he bit back.

“Do you object to those ethics?” she asked mildly.

“No. I just don’t trust them. The way you lot see it, we’re all maladjusted, antisocial, borderline...”

She raised her eyebrows. “I take it you’ve talked to a psychologist before. When was that?”

“When we first came here. We all had to. And you know what, you stick a kid in hell, they’re gonna raise hell. There’s nothing maladjusted about that.”

“I agree. But behavior that’s perfectly suited to one environment can be debilitating in another. I think – I hope – that that was what my colleague was trying to get at.”

Jay sat down so he could meet her gaze full-on. “If I told you I had killed someone, what would you do?”

Her blue eyes didn’t waver. “I would try to determine whether you were telling the truth. If I thought you were, I would encourage you to go to the police.”

“And if I wouldn’t?”

“Then I would assess whether you were likely to harm anyone else. If I thought you were, I would inform the police myself.” She smiled a little. “Confidentiality does have its limits.”

“What if I told you I’d stolen some shit?”

That got him a quiet but unmistakable snort of laughter. “Shocked, I’m sure.”

“You wouldn’t tell anyone?”

“No.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“I take my duties as a psychologist seriously, and confidentiality is a huge part of that. Furthermore, my employers take it equally seriously.” She held his gaze for a moment, then smiled at what she saw. “You don’t have to believe me if you don’t want to. You can just walk out the door, any time you decide I’m not trustworthy.”

He shook his head slowly, and they sat in silence only marred by the sound of Dr. Liddell’s pen tapping against her pad.

“Do you feel that you have to protect your friend?” she asked at long last.

“Maybe. He’s a pretty trusting guy.”

“And you’re not.”

He gave no answer to that, only clicked his tongue.

She crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward. “I can’t speak for your earlier experiences, but I promise, I’m trying to help. No ulterior motive.”

There was a clock on the mantelpiece, an intricate machine in porcelain and gold inside a bell jar, and he nodded towards it. “I could have sold that on the Isle and bought food for a month.”

“That thing? Beans and rice, maybe.”

“There are worse meals than beans and rice.” He took a deep breath. “You know, I didn’t used to be this pissed off about it. I thought Auradon was great. Free food, free video games, a school where the teachers didn’t beat you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still been given so much. After my injury… on the Isle I’d have to sell my kidney at the very least to get the kind of healthcare I get here. But that’s just it. It shouldn’t be like that, not for anyone. Especially not kids. Those kids who are coming now, they’re so small, and so many, and there are people hating them for where they were born. And that’s fucked up. And even the people who want to help… you know, I’m glad that you gave Gil those computer programs and whatnot. But where the fuck were you for the past twenty-two years? Any of you? Did it really have to take Ben growing up to see we didn’t belong in that place?”

Dr. Liddell hadn’t even tried to get a word in edgewise. Now that he paused, she said, “I think maybe it did. Fear does strange things to people. But that’s no excuse. We fucked up.”

He startled a little, never having heard an Auradonian use that word before. It sounded extra strange coming from her, in her dress suit and professional updo.

His thoughts must have shown on his face, because she smiled. “Don’t you agree?”

“I do. Why, though? Why didn’t you do anything?”

“I think being afraid for so long… it’s easy to get selfish. To think that as long as one’s old enemies are gone and can’t hurt any of the people one cares about, that’s all that matters.”

“Even if they were hurting other people?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Who was your villain?” he challenged. “What did they do to you?”

“Nothing too terrible. It was an unpleasant, but brief encounter. Others had it much worse than me. It’s easy to forget, but a lot of Auradonians, the older generation I mean, they weren’t so different from you once. Homeless, enslaved, abused, cursed.”

“They sure seem to have forgotten.” Jay shook his head. “No, I get locking our parents away, but you didn’t even split the men from the women to make sure they didn’t have babies. Not to mention, there was no difference in the treatment depending on the crime. I mean, Gil’s mom isn’t even a villainess, she just fell in love with the wrong guy. Or someone like Drizella Tremaine… okay, she’s a bitch, but it’s not like she ever killed anyone.”

“You’re right,” Dr. Liddell agreed. “It’s not proportionate.”

“And what about us kids? It never occurred to you that our parents would knock boots?”

“Do you mean me personally, or anyone in Auradon?”

“Let’s go with you personally.”

“No.” There was a silver locket around her neck, and she twirled it thoughtfully. “I knew how babies were made, but I didn’t quite draw those kinds of practical conclusions.”

That made him stop short, and he scrutinized her more carefully. For the first time, it hit him that even though she had that posh, poised look about her, there was no gray in her hair or crow’s feet around her eyes. “Wait. How old were you?”

“When the barrier came up? Twelve.”

He gave a scoff of laughter. “And you let me rant at you for something that’s not your fault?”

“It wasn’t my fault _then_ , but like you said, it’s been twenty-two years. I could have done something. We all could have done something. Anyway, this is a safe space to rant.” She spread her arms. “You can let me be stand-in for everyone you want to rant at, if that’s what you want.”

“I didn’t come here to be analyzed, you know.”

“I know,” she said with a smile. “And for the record, I don’t think you’re particularly maladjusted, or any of those other things you mentioned. Nor are you wrong about the things you said. As for why you’re feeling all these things right now, you’re having a pretty rough time, which we can talk more about if you want…”

“No thanks,” he said, and she chuckled.

“It makes you less patient with everyone around you. That’s normal. Then there’s the fact that you’re growing up, which makes you look at the world differently. Not to mention, you have to live an adult life now. Auradon Prep is a bubble – no bills to pay, or meals to cook, and if anyone is mean to you, you can run to Fairy Godmother. Leaving that always takes some getting used to, and you had a harsher awakening than most.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Then there’s the positive. Oddly enough, I think you’re starting to feel safe. Maybe even safer than you did in school. That can cause a lot of things to rise to the surface.”

“You’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?”

“Just one or two things. I’m sure I’ll learn more if we talk more.”

“I think I’m good, thanks.” He got up from the chair – it was low enough to give him some trouble – and nodded towards her. “It was nice talking to you, though.”

“Nice talking to you too. And Jay, you know where to find me, if you need to come back.”

“Nah,” he said. “I don’t mind so much if Gil does, though.”

* * *

After the tourney season ended, Clio kept sending Jay out on more assignments, as per their agreement. Most of them were indoors, but winter sports were starting, which was how he found himself on a flimsy foldable camping stool by a snowdrift, watching the archery biathlon through binoculars.

Though he generally preferred to stay away from the other journalists, after his history with them, it was hard to avoid when they were all being shunted along the same way. All he could hope was that they would stick to reporting the biathlon and not add in anything about him. At least nobody asked for an interview, though he was pretty sure he caught a couple of camera flashes in his direction.

Apart from that, the assignment was easy enough emotionally, with no memories to affect his viewing of the sport. Physically, on the other hand, it was a pain in the ass, and he found himself hating snow with a fervor he’d only ever felt when the heater broke down in his dad’s shop.

Fortunately, the gold medalist, Haakon Oakensen, was amiable enough to thaw Jay’s mood a little during their interview afterwards.

“We have a year-round skiing track in Arendelle!” he explained enthusiastically. “I get lots of practice in! I hope to win the slalom as well.”

The silver medalist, Princess Merida, was twenty years older and took her defeat in stride.

“Ach, I cannae keep up with these young lads,” she said, with an accent like Harry’s but broader. “But I’ll win in the spring, when it’s only archery with nae skiing.”

Jay didn’t doubt it – she had the highest accuracy scores by far.

She peered at him while he wrote down her answers, and asked, “Ye’re Jay, right? I’ve read yer columns. Have ye considered archery?”

“For what?” he asked.

“A new sport. Seems like ye could use one, and my da’s been doing archery on a peg leg for more than thirty years.”

That caught his attention, and he stopped writing. “Really?”

“Aye. Think about it!”

And he did, all the way home and while he was writing his column. Archery wouldn’t be his first choice, but it was _a_ choice, and it made him curious what his other choices were.

He ended up mentioning the recommendation in his column, as well as asking for more tips for sports to try – and making a snide comment about the lack of accessibility at some of the city’s sport facilities.

Clio’s only comment about the section was, “Are you fishing for fan mail?”

“No. Just want more things to do.”

“Alright, I’ll ask IT to set up an email for you at our domain. You can’t use your personal one for work-related mail. Do check it daily, and don’t blame me if you get death threats.”

“Why would I get death threats?”

“Oh, we all get death threats sooner or later,” she said vaguely and hung up.

Despite her ominous warning, the mail that came in response to the column was overwhelmingly positive. Granted, there were several sob-drenched submissions about how brave Jay was, but he deleted those and did his best to forget about them. A couple of others were so raunchy that he was quite surprised to see that while they were anonymous, they still had aur domain addresses.

There were also some pretty good suggestions. Haakon Oakensen sent an enthusiastic email with a dozen links to sites about adaptive skiing. Princess Merida wrote back and repeated her push for archery. Other people wrote about rowing, bowling, riding, and running – the prosthetics used by the runner made him pass the link to Robinson and Carlos asking, “Can I get one of those?” He even got a text from Elle saying, “Are our games not enough for you anymore? :-)”

Amidst all of that, one letter stood out, and when he had read it, he sat mulling it through for a while before calling Clio.

“Hey, that whole exclusivity thing, that’s just for writing, right? I can still have a second job?”

“Don’t tell me. You want to be a lumberjack.”

“Why a lumberjack?”

“It was the first thing that came to mind. What is it, then?”

“Doug’s dad and uncles… uh, that is, the dwarfs are asking me to teach them swords and shields. As a self defense thing.” To him, it seemed way overdue – from what Doug had told him, some of his uncles were well past sixty. Jay really hoped Clio would say yes.

Instead, she seemed rather thoughtful when she answered, “Two things. First, are you aware that these dwarfs are best friends with Snow White?”

He hadn’t thought of that, and grimaced. “Shit. You think they’d go gossip to her?”

“Probably not, but you never know. Are you willing to take the risk?”

“I… think so? I mean, I think there were some photographers taking pictures of me at that biathlon anyway.”

“Darling boy, they never stopped. Second, you don’t seem to have been counting your columns.”

“Why?” he asked with a frown.

“This was number eight. You only have two more left. One week, and then you’re free as a bird.”

Instead of relief, he felt a cold hand squeezing his chest. “Wait, you’re firing me?”

“No. I’m saying that the terms of our contract are about to be fulfilled. If you want to continue, we can negotiate a new one, and you can put in dwarfs with swords or whatever else you desire. Within reason, of course.”

“Of course,” he said, finding it easier to breathe again. He even smiled a little. “Can I ask for a raise?”

“You can ask. Doesn’t mean you’ll get it. And let’s face it, with a second job, you don’t really need it. Those dwarfs are loaded, you know.”

“That’s no excuse for you to be skimping.”

She laughed. “Let’s meet for lunch on Sunday. Make a wish list!”

* * *

Sunday night, after Gil got home from his evening shift, the two of them sat in bed, talking, while Jay massaged Gil’s back.

“Clio agreed to 300 dollars per column,” he said, “as long as there’s a minimum of 500 ‘useable’ words. So not counting the swearing.”

“And Doug’s uncles?”

“20 bucks each per class, but we have to wait until equipment gets here. Nothing standard fits.” Jay shook his head ruefully. “Man, they should have been taught ages ago. Still, it gives me some time to get steadier too. Maybe I could use just the one crutch for classes, easier to show moves that way.”

“I thought Phil told you not to do that until you relied on them less,” Gil said, eyes closing as he relaxed into the touch. “‘Cause you would get bad posture.”

“Two hours a week won’t ruin my posture any.” Jay worked at a knot until he felt it loosen under his fingers. “You’re more tense than usual. What are they doing to you at the hospital? Or is it the studies?”

“Neither,” Gil said with a sigh and opened his eyes again. “I got a call from my dad. They approved his parole, and he asked me to find him a place to stay in Auradon. Well, all of them. Him and Mom and my brothers.”

Jay’s hands stilled. “What did you tell him?”

“I gave him the same list of phone numbers we called. He asked if he could stay here, but I told him no, that Mr. Fa won’t allow any more tenants.” Gil drew a shaky breath. “Which is a lie, because I never asked, but I don’t want them here. Not even Mom.”

He was starting to tense up again, and Jay hugged him from behind, kissing his shoulders. “Shhh. You did the right thing, okay?”

“But I feel so guilty,” Gil said. “They’re my family, I ought to help them. It’s just that I’d rather be here with you. You’re my family too.”

“And you’re mine,” Jay said, getting choked up.

Gil smiled and turned to give him a kiss on the mouth, but soon grew serious again. “Gods, he was so mad… New Years is going to _suck_ this year.”

“You don’t have to go back for New Years if you don’t want to,” Jay pointed out. “We can spend it right here.”

“Just the two of us? Isn’t that a bit sad?”

“It’s never sad to be around people you want to be with. The past couple of years I’ve celebrated with my friends, and it’s been the best New Years of my life. We can ask them over if you want a party.”

Gil perked up a little. “Uma and Harry too?”

“Sure,” Jay agreed.

“And the rest of the pirates and everyone you know from school.”

“Maybe not everyone, but I’m sure we can fit in twenty people or so, make it a proper party.”

Gil grinned and kissed him again. “I’d like that.”


	13. DRUNKEN DEBAUCHERY AT ISLE KIDS’ NEW YEARS PARTY

Jay sent out texts about the New Years party to most of his friends, but decided to call Mal instead. If her phone was confiscated during a council meeting again, it was better not to have any proof of the subject of their conversation.

“Hey, Mal, what are you doing for New Years?” he asked.

“Oh, there’s a state dinner on New Years Eve!” she chirped. “All of the ambassadors are coming.”

“That terrible, huh?” he asked, amused by the fake happiness in her voice.

“Mhm! I’d invite you, but it doesn’t seem like your thing.”

“Doesn’t seem like yours either.”

“No, not really. There’s a concert on New Years Day. You could come to that, if you want!”

“Thanks, maybe I will. Anything going on for the stroke of midnight?”

“Not officially. There will be some fireworks by the lake.” Her voice lowered. “But Ben and I might sneak off on a private stroll.”

“Well, if you stroll all the way to Maple Road, Gil and I are having a party.”

“Seriously?” she asked with genuine excitement. “That’s great!”

“So you want to come!”

“Of course!”

He could hear the rhythmic clattering of heels against marble floors as she hurried into another room, presumably away from people.

“You can bring Ben too, if you like,” he said, “but you should prepare him that Isle rules apply. Meaning there will be alcohol — and Harry’s coming, so probably weed as well.”

“Gotcha. So it’ll just be Isle kids?”

“No, Elle will be there, and Evie’s bringing Doug. They’re coming back to town for the holiday.” Elle had been so enthusiastic that Jay suspected she considered slumming with the Isle kids the height of adventure. “Carlos wasn’t sure about Jane, but he would ask her. Lonnie’s going to check with her grandparents if she could stay with them. Her family doesn’t really celebrate New Years until later anyway.”

“That’s a bit risky,” Mal warned. “If you don’t bring her home to her grandparents sober and on time…”

“I know. We’ll figure it out. It’s not like we can completely hide the party from them anyway.”

“She could always tell them it’s a nice get-together between friends who will sing campfire songs and study Tales of Heroes Past.”

“I don’t think even Auradonian grandparents are _that_ gullible.”

There was a pause and then Mal asked, more tentatively, “Did you invite the little ones?”

Jay grimaced. “I… couldn’t. I guess Auradon’s affected me. I know they’ve probably been around alcohol before, but…”

“No, you made the right call!” she assured him.

“Anyway, I talked to Freddy, and she said that she and Celia are going home for New Years. Maybe they could ask Dizzy over? And I know Smee’s kids love their dad, so they’ll be fine going home too.”

It still made him feel a little guilty, but between the guilt of bringing those four kids to an Isle-type party and the guilt of leaving them out, he’d much rather deal with the second kind.

“Of course they will!” Mal said warmly. “And I can’t promise anything, the palace being what it is, but if there’s any way whatsoever for us to make it, we’ll be there.”

“Here’s to hoping,” he said. “At the very least, you’ll get a lovely dinner.”

She blew him a raspberry and hung up.

* * *

  


Jay opened the door to the gymnasium and let in his new students. There were eight of them, which was one more than expected, but then, that made it a whole team. Not that they were likely to ever compete against another.

“Alright, let’s start with introductions. I’m Jay, as you all know.” He nodded towards Doug’s dad. “I know you’re Dopey. Not sure about the rest of you.”

They all rattled off their names in quick succession.

“Lippy,” said the eighth, who was the only one apart from Dopey without a beard, instead sporting a sparse grey moustache.

“Okay,” Jay said. “Are you, uh, new?”

Bashful blushed. “She’s my… my wife.”

“We thought it would be a nice thing to do as a couple,” Lippy said, jutting her jaw out.

“I’m sure it will be,” Jay said, and did his best to hide his surprise. At least Chad wasn’t there to complain about women on the team. “All your equipment is on the bench, feel free to put it on. Now, swords and shields is a sport, with specific rules and formalities, but you also mentioned wanting to learn sword fighting as self defense. Which of those should I lean more into? Should I teach you all how to do a formal greeting, or…?”

“That sounds lovely!” said Happy.

“Nonsense,” growled Grumpy. “If some bastard comes at me with a sword, I don’t want to greet him, I want to cut him into pieces!”

“Nothing too energetic, please!” said Sleepy.

“Are you here to work out or not, you lazy sod?”

“Grumpy, please!” Happy pleaded.

“Self-defense!” said Lippy. “With the number of invasions we’ve had, we’re going to need it!”

Bashful tugged at her sleeve. “Maybe… mmm… sport for now?”

Sneezy scratched his neck. “Can we stop wearing these outfits if we go for self-defense? I think they’re setting off my allergies.”

“I told you to take your antihistamines!” Doc chastised him.

Dopey rolled his eyes and signed something that Jay didn’t catch, but seemed less than complimentary.

“O-kay,” Jay said slowly. “How about we start with the basics for now, and you can decide for next time which you would prefer. Sneezy, if you really can’t wear your equipment, take it off, and we’ll figure it out somehow. Everyone else ready? Good. First thing you do is get into the right position. En garde, like this. Sorry –” he corrected his stance as well as he could “– like that. Try to bend your knees further if you can. Sleepy, pick up your sword a little, it’s not supposed to point at the ground.”

For the next couple of hours, he taught them the first steps of attack, parry and riposte, how to hold the swords and to move the right way. He let them practice both with each other and him, figuring that they wouldn’t often be in a position where they’d fight someone at eye level. Compensating both for their limited range and his unsteady footing was tricky but doable, though since there was only one of him and eight of them he ended up having to ask them to bring out a bench, so that half of them could stand on that and the other half fight from below. It may not be regulation, but it was practical.

“My back is killing me!” complained Grumpy towards the end of the class.

“I think it’s good for us to use a wider range of motion than usual!” said Happy.

“Okay,” said Jay, lowering his sword, “yes, it’s good to work all your muscles, and some aches are to be expected. But Grumpy, if it’s sheer pain you’re feeling, you should take a rest, or you could end up hurting yourself.”

“Does that go for the teacher too?” Doc asked mildly.

The truth was, Jay had been ignoring the twinges in his leg for the past half hour, though he hadn’t been aware that it showed. He gave Doc an embarrassed smile and half shrug, and sat down on the bench.

“I think we’re all a bit tired,” he said, eyes drifting towards Sleepy who had plain fallen asleep on the floor, limbs sprawled like a starfish. “If some of you want to keep going, I’ll give you some pointers from here. Otherwise, good job everyone. I’ll see you next week.”

* * *

For an Auradon party, it would definitely be bare-bones, but it still felt plenty festive to Jay and Gil as they stocked up on paper plates, cups and spoons, and all the ingredients for the lentil stew they were making. They borrowed the biggest cooking pot they could get from Mr. and Mrs. Fa, and Gil took the car to the Isle to fetch Harry, Uma, and the booze.

It wasn’t until later that Jay remembered that Gil didn’t even have a driver’s license. He briefly considered texting him and asking to switch places, but brushed it off. License or not, Gil could handle a car.

As Jay was peeling the onions for the stew, he had another moment of regret when the ceiling lamp went out. He paused, eyes drifting from the lamp to one of the kitchen chairs, then rejected that possibility as far too unstable.

It wasn’t worth calling Gil back for, and waiting for him to return would delay all the party preparations. Chopping onions in the dark or by flashlight didn’t seem like a good idea either. So Jay sighed and went back down to Mr. and Mrs. Fa to ask for another favor.

“Hi, Mr. Fa,” he said when the old man opened. “I was wondering if you had a stepladder we could borrow. A lightbulb went out.”

“Sure. I’ll ask Lonnie to carry it for you. Lonnie!” Mr. Fa gave Jay a thoughtful smile. “Everything else going well for the… gathering you’re having?”

“Yup. Thanks. Hi, Lonnie!”

Lonnie looked much the same as the last time Jay had seen her, though her hair was at least four inches longer, and her grey sweatshirt said Northern Wei University, followed by presumably the same words in Weian script. She did a double-take upon seeing him, and then smiled, and it occurred to him that, while those first reactions used to be a dime a dozen, it had been a while since he’d last had one from a friend.

“Jay!” She gave him a long, firm hug. “I thought we weren’t on until eight? I’m not quite ready yet.”

“That’s fine, we’re not. I just need a stepladder.”

“Oh, of course! I’ll get it for you!”

“Great! I’ll hold the elevator.”

“Oh, we don’t need the elevator for just…” Her chuckle died out. “Right. Okay.”

When she got in the elevator with him and the stepladder, the mood was so awkward that he nudged her a little and went, “Hey. Lonnie. Breathe.”

She did, giving him an uncertain smile. “I just don’t know what to say.”

“You’re not this awkward over the phone.”

“It’s a lot _easier_ over the phone.”

“You don’t say. So, are you still doing media studies?”

“Yes!” she said, lighting up. As she carried the ladder inside, she continued, “It’s amazing! I’m learning so much about how to use sounds, and lights, and mise-en-scène. We need to do a one-minute project next month, and I’m thinking of maybe something with martial arts, except I can’t think of anything that would be a proper story _and_ show off all the coolest moves, too.”

She set up the stepladder in the living room, and looked a little hesitant as he got out a new lightbulb and a flashlight.

“Do you want me to change the bulb?” she offered.

“Nope! I can handle it,” he said and started climbing up. “But you could hold the flashlight. Does your film have to have a story?”

“I don’t know. The previous ones I’ve seen always worked better if there was some sort of purpose or punchline.”

“Hmm. Maybe you could combine it with cooking. Like, using a sword to chop the onions.”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

The doorbell rang, and he asked, “Could you take that?”

Lonnie headed into the hall as he put the lightbulb in, and he heard Evie’s and Doug’s voices mingling with hers.

Before he could finish putting the lampshade back, Evie stepped into the living room and crossed her arms.

“Why is it that every time I see you, you’re climbing something?”

“Because it’s me?” He smiled at her and got down to hug her. “Hey, girl! Hi, Doug.”

“Hi,” Doug said. His eyes only flickered down for a split second before their handshake. “Good to see you again! I, uh, actually have a message to you, from my dad. He says they’ve finally all agreed, and they want you to teach them how to straight-up kill a man.”

Jay winced, but also burst out laughing. “Yikes! Let’s hope they don’t say that to Snow White, or my reputation will be shot for life. But tell your dad no problem, I’ll teach them.”

“So bloodthirsty,” Evie said. “Should we help out with anything?”

His initial impulse was to say no, of course not, but he paused. The stew was easy enough to make, and that was pretty much the only thing that needed preparation. There was plenty of time to get the pot cooking and then change his clothes and don the leg. Evie and Doug in their party getup weren’t really dressed for kitchen duty either.

But he didn’t know when Gil would get back with the others, and he’d really prefer to have his leg on before he had to deal with Harry.

Which was ridiculous. As if he cared about _Harry Hook’s_ opinion, of all people’s.

Still.

“I’m just going to get changed,” he said. “Then we can start with the stew.”

* * *

Turned out that when Harry did arrive, all he did was thump Jay on the back and say, “See you’ve gotten pegged, good for you!” before he proceeded to show off what was in the suitcases they’d carried up. “Gather round, for this is no cheap moonshine I got you! Beer, gin, rum, _and_ whiskey. All-round excellent deal. Hope you have soda.”

“On the balcony,” Jay said, figuring if that double entendre was the worst of it, he could let it slide. Instead, he asked Gil, “Any problems?”

“Nope, nobody even checked the car,” Gil said, hopping up to sit on the clean side of the kitchen counter. “The rest of the pirates will be here later. What about the Auradon kids?”

“Carlos is on his way, so is Jordan. Lonnie’s changing her clothes. Jane won’t come, she’s celebrating with her mom, same with Ally. Mal and Ben will probably be late. Elle… I don’t know.”

Elle was still missing when most of the partygoers had arrived, started eating and uncorked some of those bottles. Jay didn’t worry until his phone buzzed and he got the text: “Save me!”

For a few seconds, his mind ran cold with fear, trying to figure out which villain could have popped up this time and what he should do about it, until the next text came in: “Parents obnoxious”.

He exhaled and put the phone down, shaking his head. “I’ll go check on Elle.”

When he rang the doorbell to Elle’s apartment, it was opened by a middle-aged woman with a stunning mane of red hair and a fretting expression.

“Yes?” was all she said upon seeing him.

“Um, I’m Jay, I’m looking for Elle.”

“I’m here!” Elle called from further inside the hall, pushing past her mother to get to him. “See, Mom? I’m so late they’ve started to worry about me. It’s rude!”

Jay didn’t really think it was all that rude, since people could show up when they felt like it – the worst that could happen was that they ran out of stew. But he held his tongue.

“Are you sure it’s safe? What kind of people will be there?” Turning to Jay, Queen Ariel continued in an accusatory manner, “Isn’t your friend one of Uma’s pirates?”

He wondered what she would do if she knew that Uma and her pirates were down there right at that moment, drinking rum and telling dirty stories. “Ma’am… uh, Your Majesty, Gil works at the hospital now.”

“Is it only Isle people or anyone from Auradon?”

“Doug’s there, Lonnie, Jordan…”

“Oh, good.” She turned to Elle. “You can ask Lonnie or Jordan to chaperone you.”

“Mom, I don’t need a chaperone.”

“Of course you do! And remember, if you have a soda or a glass of water, be sure to take it yourself, don’t let anyone bring an open drink to you, you won’t know what’s in it. Don’t go anywhere with a boy alone. These Isle boys are savage with girls.”

Enough was enough. “Okay, listen, that’s not…” Jay started.

“Mom, you’ve insulted the host,” Elle interrupted. “Happy now?”

“And look at what you’re wearing!” Queen Ariel continued as if neither of them had spoken. “That dress is far too cold! And the pantyhose! What if you get a UTI?”

“We’ll be indoors. It’s warm.”

Queen Ariel took a coat from the hanger by the door and handed it over to her daughter. “If you go out, wear this. Maybe some blankets too. Do you have extra blankets?”

The last part was directed at Jay. “Uh, we have sleeping bags.”

“I suppose that would do. They do zip open, right, so you could wrap one around her?”

“Oh my goodness, Mom, you’re being ridiculous!” Elle complained. “I don’t need a sleeping bag to go outside!”

“You _know_ you don’t feel the cold properly. Do you have your medicines?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Have you set the timer for your next bathroom break?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Do you have your…” Queen Ariel’s voice lowered. “...supplies?”

“ _Mom_! Yes!”

“Is the bathroom accessible?”

Again, the question was directed to Jay, who wondered how to point out the obvious.

“Of _course_ it is!” Elle hissed. “Will you just stop it?”

“You shouldn’t talk to your mother like that,” said a deeper voice from inside, and Elle buried her head in her hands.

“Powerful Poseidon, not him too! Jay, I’m so sorry!”

A dark-haired man with eyes much like Elle’s appeared in the hallway. It was more context than the few grainy photos he’d seen that made Jay recognize him as King Eric.

“I have an army, you know,” the king informed Jay. “I don’t hesitate to use it against anyone who harms my family. Am I making myself clear?”

“Uh, yes, sir. There’s really no need…”

“I cannot _believe_ this!” Elle said, spinning around to face her father, while backing out onto the landing. “You two are _embarrassing_ me! I’m a grown woman, celebrating New Years with my friends. I get to do that, just like Melody does! Now please, _please_ go back to your hotel, kiss Rickie and Miranda from me, try not to worry, and have a happy new year!”

She accentuated the last three words by punching the door opener to the elevator three times.

“When will you be home?” Queen Ariel asked.

“Go back to your hotel,” Elle repeated and got into the elevator. “Don’t wait up. Bye!”

“Your Majesties,” Jay said as he stepped in after her, “she’ll be safe. I promise.”

Elle leaned her head back against the mirror as they went down a floor. “I’m really sorry about them.”

“Are they always like that?”

“No, sometimes they’re worse.”

The notion of parents, even Auradonian ones, worrying that much about their kid was a strange one, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“But hasn’t it been years since you were, you know, hurt?”

“Hurt? Oh, no, no, no. I was born with curse damage. They’ve been like this _all my life_.”

He opened the door to his apartment, and she went inside, giving him a tired smile.

“So let’s not tell them what goes on tonight, okay?” she asked.

In the living room, people were eating, or going up for refills, and some had finished their meals and proceeded with the liquid diet. Uma was at the center of it all, telling a story that made her laugh just as much as her friends.

Elle lit up at the sight and rolled forward, face going pink under the party glitter.

“Hello there,” she said. “You must be Uma. I’m Elle.”

Jay raised his eyebrows at the silken tone. So this was Elle in flirtation mode.

Uma noticed it too, and responded with a sly smile. “Well, hello, Elle. Do you want a beer? Or something stronger?”

“I would _love_ something stronger. What do you recommend?”

As Uma handed her a rum and cola that was pretty much mixed 50-50, Jay sat down and decided that if anyone would tell Elle’s parents about that night, it definitely wasn’t going to be him. Otherwise, he fully expected King Eric to order his execution.

* * *

As the hours progressed, they finished eating, put what little was left of the stew in the fridge, and moved the table and chairs aside to make room for dancing. The music wasn’t so loud that they couldn’t hear each other, but sometimes people still slipped into the bedroom for a while. Evie and Doug, on the other hand, carried out little private conversations in sign language with a fluency Jay hadn’t known Evie was capable of.

Mal and Ben finally turned up as well, flustered and with a bottle of high-class bubbly stolen from the palace kitchen, just large enough for everyone to get a mouthful at midnight.

Jay tried an hour or so of dancing, crutches and all, before throwing in the towel and settling down on the sofa. After a while, Gil came to join him, and Jay leaned his head against Gil’s shoulder.

“It’s a good party,” Gil said, stroking Jay’s arm as he watched the crowd.

“A really good party,” Jay agreed.

“You could dance like her, if you want.” Gil nodded towards Elle, who was spinning around with both Uma and Lonnie, clearly having the time of her life.

Jay laughed silently. “Yeah, but I’m not bringing out the wheels tonight. I’m happy right here with you.”

Despite the people watching, he leaned in closer and caught Gil in a kiss. Isle rules applied tonight, after all. And when he pulled back, the only one of the Auradon kids who seemed to have noticed was Ben; the others were too occupied with their own conversations.

Jay gave Ben a cheeky wink, and Mal, noticing her fiancé’s consternation and the reason for it, laughed and poked him in the ribs with her elbow to snap him out of it.

Gil put his arm around Jay and they remained where they were, not even talking for the most part, just enjoying each other’s company and the music, until Jordan called out:

“Hey, it’s almost midnight! We gotta do a countdown!”

She sounded a little fuzzy, which was only to be expected for someone who had been lighting up with Harry all night.

Everyone brought out their watches and phones, waiting for the moment. Mal poured the bubbly in paper cups and handed them out. Evie passed around a box of grapes, and Jay took a bunch, feeding one to Gil each second as the countdown started. At the count of one, Gil hastily had to swallow the last of them along with the wine. His “Happy New Year!” was pretty muffled, but the kiss he gave Jay after was much more forceful.

“I’m calling my mom,” he said a moment later. “Do you want to come say hi?”

Jay agreed, though he hadn’t the faintest idea what to say to Gil’s mom, and followed him into the bedroom, waiting while he dialed and started speaking.

When Gil handed the phone over, Jay said, “Uh, hi, Mrs. Legume! Happy New Year!”

“Happy New Year, Jay,” said Gil’s mom in her light, breathy voice. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“Yeah. Yes, I am.”

Gil was still right by, listening, and put an arm around Jay’s waist.

“I’m so glad, sweetheart. We’re thinking about you boys tonight. Have fun now!”

“Thank you,” Jay said, blinking a little.

“You have fun too!” Gil said into the phone, taking it back.

Jay stepped out of Gil’s touch and slowly returned to the living room. A lot of people were on their phones, he noticed. Lonnie was sitting in Elle’s lap, both of them texting. Doug and Jordan too. Well, that was to be expected, he supposed, but Evie and Carlos were talking to someone as well, and even a few of the pirates.

He left one of the crutches by the kitchen counter so he could bring a half-empty bottle of whiskey out onto the balcony, where he leaned his elbows on the railing and drank in heavy swigs as he listened to the faint crackle of faraway fireworks.

Despite the heat of the alcohol, he was shivering by the time footsteps came up behind him.

“Hey,” said Carlos. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” Jay took deep breaths of the cold night air. “Can I ask you a question that might ruin the mood?”

“Sure.”

“Was it your mom you were talking to right now?”

Carlos didn’t seem surprised by the question. “No. Jane.”

“Right. Of course.” Jay remained silent for a little while, and then asked, “When was the last time you talked to her?”

“My mom? Like, a month ago. She was unhappy with her ankle monitor and wanted me to hack it for her. Which I won’t. Obviously.”

Jay nodded slowly. “That sucks.”

He drank some more, finishing the bottle, which he then put on the railing.

“What brought this on?” Carlos asked gently.

“I don’t know. It’s just… I was talking to Gil’s mom, and then there’s everyone in there… and Elle’s parents, shit, I don’t know if there’s such a thing as too much love, but I think she may have it.”

Carlos didn’t answer, just watched him with kind eyes.

“Last time I talked to my dad was after the barrier came down. We both said some things… Well. I’m not sorry. I can’t imagine that he is either. Anyway, I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Does he know what happened to you?”

“He must. It was all over the news. Even Chad sent a card. Chad! And Dad just… nothing. It’s not that I want to talk to him. But how can he not want to talk to me?”

His gestures had gotten wide enough that his elbow nudged the bottle, which went crashing down to the ground, five floors below. Jay turned around, eyes widening.

“Shit! The neighbors won’t like that!” 

“I’ll clean it up,” Carlos promised. He stepped up to give Jay a quick hug. “I know what it feels like. It’s awful. But you’re gonna be okay, Jay. You’ve got us. And I’ll go get that glass.”

He slipped back into the room, and Jay sagged against the railing, eyes closed.

A minute or two later, Gil came out onto the balcony, holding Jay’s other crutch.

“I know, I know,” Jay said tiredly. “I’m ruining my posture.”

“I wasn’t saying that,” Gil said. He put the crutch aside and took Jay in his arms. “What’s going on?”

Jay buried his face in Gil’s neck, eyes burning, and just clung to him for a while.

At long last, when his voice returned to him, he said, “I think I have to go see my dad.”

“Okay,” Gil said. “Right now?”

“No. Fuck no. Maybe tomorrow.”

Gil caressed his back in long, soothing strokes. “Do you want me to come with?”

Jay thought about it. With all his heart, he wanted Gil there, but he knew what his father would make of it if he couldn’t even face him alone. “Could you wait in the car a block away?”

“Like a getaway car?”

He laughed faintly. “Yeah. Like a getaway car.”

“You bet.”


	14. FAMILY BRAWL AS JAY AND GIL RETURN TO THE ISLE

Jay parked the car and sat in silence for about a minute before opening the door to step out.

“Are you sure you want me to stay here?” Gil asked, reaching out to touch Jay’s hand.

“Yeah.” As an afterthought, Jay handed one of his crutches back to Gil, who gave him a berating look but didn’t argue.

It wasn’t just the icy street, or even the hangover, that made him walk slowly the block and a half to his dad’s store. When he was ten years old, he had discovered that he was faster than his father. A few years later, he’d been stronger as well, and it had changed their relationship forever.

Now, the sound of his heartbeat filled his ears, and he felt like a little kid again.

“Ah, most esteemed customer!” came Jafar’s voice from the inner room. “You are in luck today, I have a bargain you cannot…” He came into view, and his face had a wide smile for a split second before a stricken expression wiped it out. “Jay.”

Jay swallowed hard, trying to force his heart down from his mouth. “Dad.”

There was more gray in Jafar’s beard than before, but his stern eyes were the same. They swept down to the crutch and then up again, stopping at Jay’s face. He frowned. “I was told you had lost a leg.”

“Oh, you were? Well, it’s true.” Jay tapped his prosthetic with the crutch. “Gone from the calf.”

Jafar shook his head ruefully and raised his hands. "Oh fates, how long shall my suffering and misfortunes continue? Was my fall from grace not sufficient, that my only son must be made a cripple?"

“Don’t use that word.” Jay grimaced. “Funny you should be so upset at this happening to you, when you didn’t acknowledge in any way that it happened to _me_.”

A spark of the familiar anger flashed in Jafar’s eyes. “And what would you have me do? You made your wishes perfectly clear the last time we met.”

“It shouldn’t matter what I _wished_ , Dad! I’m your kid, and I almost died! I lost a fucking limb! If something like that happened to anyone I cared about, you couldn’t drag me away from them.” Not even if it had been Jafar himself, though Jay didn’t say that, didn’t want that weakness out in the open.

“So you are here to berate me.” Jafar straightened up, his voice cold, every bit the ruler he liked to think himself. “Your own father. After spitting on my ambition for years.”

Jay closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself, and then met his father’s gaze straight on. “I’m here because… I can’t figure it out. You and Mom. Why did you have me? I can’t imagine her ever wanting me. Even if I was an accident… there are ways around that.”

Jafar watched him in silence for a minute, and the rage flickered into a mere ember. “I paid her.”

Whatever Jay had expected, it wasn’t this. “What?”

“She wanted money for an abortion, I gave her a higher sum to keep you.”

That made sense. It fit the tiny, greedy souls of both his parents and just left the question of – “Why?”

“Because you were my legacy! My heir!”

“Heir to _what_ , the junk shop!?”

“Don’t mock me, boy!” Jafar growled. “I may be low down now, but ours is a long and proud bloodline. I advised kings! I would have ruled the world, if not for that chit of a princess and her street rat! And now you, wasting all your possibilities, with the king within your grasp and not using any of your influence on him, content to run around the jungle like a monkey until your own folly caught up with you.”

“Yeah, fuck, Dad, what a waste that was, huh?” Jay struggled to keep his voice steady. “I mean, doing honest work? Keeping the king as a friend instead of a puppet to manipulate? _Having_ friends? Not to mention that I’ve got this fella I'm in love with, so I’m never even continuing your bloodline. Sad to say, you threw your money away.”

“You’re being childish.”

“No. I’m not.” All the tension went out of Jay’s shoulders, taking the fear and anger with it, until all that remained was a bone-weary emptiness. “I’m not a child anymore, and I don’t need you. And you clearly don’t need me, because I’m not going to be the legacy you want. So I guess this is it. Bye, Dad.”

He turned to leave, and Jafar called after him:

“Jay!”

Despite himself, he stopped and looked back.

“You are my son, whatever else you may be.”

“Then say it,” Jay demanded.

“Say what?”

“You know what. I’ve learned to say it, why can’t you?”

They held each other’s gaze in silence for a minute, then Jafar averted his, looking suddenly shrunken and old.

Jay shook his head, tears prickling behind his eyelids. “For all your big speeches, you’re a coward. I’m more whole than you’ll ever be.”

He turned again and left the junk shop behind. If his father had anything else to say, he didn’t hear it.

* * *

  


When Jay got back to the car, he was shivering. As soon as he got into the driver’s seat, he curled in on himself, rubbing his arms to force the chill away.

“Hey. Hey.” One of Gil’s hands on his back, the other on his cheek. “That bad, huh?”

Jay nodded, trying to take breaths that were deep enough.

“Do you want to switch places? Let me drive you home?”

He shook his head. “I’ll do it. Just give me a minute.”

Gil remained silently by his side, his touch ever present but not overwhelming. After a while, Jay’s heart rate slowed down, and he straightened up.

“Okay,” he said, turning the ignition key.

Even then, he was grateful for the crowd that meant they had to keep a near walking pace. He didn’t think he was up to any advanced driving feats just yet.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Gil asked, and Jay sighed.

“Let’s just say that I think I burned my last bridge with my dad.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, it is what it is.”

They turned a corner, and Gil hissed, “Fuck!”

“What?”

He nodded out the window. “Speaking of family.”

Gil’s brawny older brothers, Gaston Jr. and Gaston III, were heading their way, and though Gil quickly looked away, it was too late. Trip nodded to Junior, who laughed, and both of them came strolling over.

There were still too many people crossing to pick up the pace, and when Trip gave the car a heavy shove, Jay turned off the engine instead. What he wanted to do was give that large meathead a punch in his grinning face, but he kept that impulse in check. For now.

“Hey look, it’s the runt and his little hero friend,” Trip said.

Junior walked around to the driver’s side. “Gracing us with their presence. What’s the matter, Auradon boys? Are you lost?”

“Stop it,” Gil said, too quietly to be heard through the car doors. He stepped out, and repeated himself. “Stop it!”

“Or what?” Trip taunted. “You think you can take us, runt? You’re not running with your pirates now, remember?”

“Well, at least I…” Gil’s voice shook and he had to start again. “At least I don’t have to hang onto Dad’s coat tails.”

“No, you’ve got yourself a fancy place in the city now, don’t you? Whad’ya do, suck cock for it?”

“It’s not like you’ve got any other talents,” Junior said. “Moron.”

Jay slammed the car door on his side open straight into Junior’s stomach, and got out. “You care to say that again?”

Junior was fighting to catch his breath, but managed a sneer. “You think you’re… scaring us? That’s… adorable. Hobbling around... on your crutches.”

“Yeah, I’m on crutches,” Jay said, holding Junior’s gaze as he held out his right crutch over the car roof to Gil. “That means I’m readily armed, dipshit. Gil?”

Gil took the offered crutch, and without missing a beat, swung it at Trip’s head. When the older boy dropped to the ground in front of the car, Gil followed and kicked him hard in the face, twice.

“Ow!” Trip cried out, muffled by the hand he brought up to stop the bleeding. “My nose!”

Jay and Junior both stood shock still for a second. Then Junior yelled, “You fucking psycho!” and lunged for his younger brother.

Gil, wide-eyed, quickly jumped into the car, and Jay joined him a moment later, still stunned.

“Drive, drive!” Gil urged.

“They’ve got to get out of the way first!” Jay pointed out.

“Drive!”

Jay started the engine and honked at the twins while Junior dragged Trip away. As soon as they were out of his path, he hit the gas – perhaps a little too soon, judging by the dull thud and the outraged yell behind them. At least when they drove on, the crowd hurried to the sides of the street, clearly expecting to be run over.

“Just to clarify,” Jay said as they got out of the narrow streets and headed towards the bridge, “you weren’t asking me to murder your brothers just then, were you?”

“I don’t know,” Gil moaned. “I wasn’t thinking! You handed me the crutch, and my mind just went, ‘Bash his head in!’ So I did.”

Jay laughed. “I’m sure his head is fine. It’s too thick to be hurt by a lightweight crutch like that. His nose, on the other hand…”

“Oh, gods!” Gil made a miserable face, but joined in the laughter. “Dad’s gonna be so pissed!”

“Pfft. We can handle your dad.”

“Thank you,” Gil said softly. “And sorry. Having to deal with my family on top of yours.”

“Pretty shit families for both of us,” Jay agreed. “I got lucky with you. You’re the best of the lot.”

Gil swallowed hard and smiled. “And you’re the best of your lot.”

* * *

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you here again,” Dr. Liddell said.

“I wasn’t either,” Jay said, “but you’ve got kids, right? You seem like the type who’d have kids.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, as if she would have expected him to know the answer. “Yes.”

“A whole bunch?”

“Just one daughter.”

“Do you tell her you love her?”

Something shifted in her face, and he turned to look out the window, so he wouldn’t have to see it. Snow danced around the street lamps below, like little fluttering halos.

“Yes,” she said.

“Frequently?”

“I don’t keep count, but I suspect you’d call it frequently, yes.”

“I bet you do,” he said. There were fourteen street lamps visible from the window, and between them, the hint of silhouettes from the naked trees. “I bet you bake her cookies, and help her with her homework, and never argue with her. You live in some nice big house with a garden, and a swing in the garden, and when she calls you, you come push her on the swing. The garage is big enough for two cars, one for you and one for your husband, who is a banker or something. When he comes home, he kisses you hello and you all have dinner together – healthy meals, three kinds of vegetables – and you tell him about your day. Except the confidential stuff, of course.”

“Jay.”

Her voice was reproachful, and he spun around to face her.

“What? Am I wrong?”

“Surely you know by now that life isn’t that neat, even in Auradon,” she said with a sad smile. “Why don’t you tell me what this is really about?”

He sat down and dropped the crutches unceremoniously on the floor, though he’d just as soon have used them to break all her multi-paned windows to pieces.

“I went to see my dad the other day.”

“I see.”

She probably did see, that was the worst of it.

“I don’t know what I expected to happen. I mean, I got some answers, I guess, but… I thought I’d get closure. That I’d feel better afterwards, no matter how awful it was to see him.”

“And that didn’t happen.”

It wasn’t a question, but he shook his head anyway.

“Do you want to tell me what did happen?”

He didn’t, but that was what he was there for, and the words bubbled in his chest, aching to come out. “He told me that he’d bribed my mom not to have an abortion because he wanted me to restore his legacy, and then nagged at me for being a total disappointment. And I said he was one too, and that’s pretty much it.”

“I’m sorry.”

The sympathy made his skin crawl, like a soggy blanket wrapped around his soul. “No offense, but that… doesn’t do shit for me.”

“Very well. How can I help?”

_Tell me how to be rid of him_ was what he wanted to say, which, way to make it sound like you were planning a murder.

“I don’t know. Maybe you can’t.”

She paused, writing something down on her pad, and he strained his neck to see, but her handwriting was shit. Possibly she made it shit on purpose.

“How long had it been since you saw him before this?”

“When the barrier came down. Seven months ago.”

“Before you left for your trip.”

“Yeah.”

Another silence, though she didn’t write anything down this time. He braced himself for questions about what had happened when he came back, but instead she asked, “What made you decide to see him now?”

“We had a New Years party, everyone was talking to their parents, or texting them, and I got drunk and sentimental… once the thought was in my head, it wouldn’t go away. So the next day I went.”

“Were you all drinking at the party?”

Her voice held an odd note, carefully blank in a way it hadn’t been before, and Jay frowned.

“You said you weren’t going to report me for illegal stuff.”

“I won’t,” she said, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“Are you lying to me? You are! You’re lying to me!”

“I’m not.” She sighed. “I got… concerned, that’s all.”

“Because some Isle kids got drunk at a party? It’s not exactly my first time.”

“Well, you didn’t just invite Isle kids.”

“So what? We corrupted your precious innocent Auradonians? How would you even know about…”

Powder blue dresses. That blonde, anemic look.

“Ally. Is your daughter.”

Dr. Liddell smiled a little, and Jay leaned back, dazed.

“Well, I guess you’re counting yourself lucky that she couldn’t come.”

“That would be a correct assumption,” she said dryly.

“And now you’ll probably never let her go to another one of our parties ever again.”

At that, she gave a broad grin that vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

How could he not have seen it before? All you had to do was imagine Dr. Liddell in a wider skirt, with a more relaxed demeanor, and her hair loose. In fact… “But Ally’s, like, Carlos’s age. How old were you when you had her?”

“I’m sorry. I derailed the discussion. Let’s get back on track, shall we?”

“Who’s her father?”

“Jay.” Her voice was kind, but firm. “I am here in a professional capacity. That means I won’t be sharing any personal information with you, _especially_ concerning my daughter.”

“But I’m supposed to share all that shit about my dad?”

“Isn’t that why you came here?”

She got him there, and he sat in silence for a while, picturing her young with a baby. Or Ally with a baby, it all blurred together. And in a backwards sort of way, that felt normal, you saw teen mothers all the time on the Isle. Most of them were girls who couldn’t afford to have the problem dealt with. It just didn’t fit with Auradon, the happily ever after and the perfect couples in family photos on their kids’ dressers.

The weird thing was, people in Auradon had more money; it should be easier for them to leave if they didn’t rely on each other for survival. Easier to get access to good doctors too, if you didn’t want a kid.

“There are abortions in Auradon, aren’t there?” he asked, and regretted it instantly when he saw her expression. Ally had always seemed pretty devoted to her mom, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

“Yes. It was.”

“It’s just… most kids in Auradon have parents who still live together. It’s not like that on the Isle. Carlos and Evie don’t even know their dads. Gil’s pretty much the only one I know with both parents still around, and that’s just because his mom is too fucking dumb to leave.” Jay winced. “I shouldn’t have said that. I barely know her, and I hate when people talk shit about Gil, so I shouldn’t do it to his mom. Scratch that.”

“Do you wish your parents had stayed together?”

“Fuck no. That would have been so much worse. Neither one of them had any business having kids, least of all together.”

It was a fucked-up feeling, that he should never have been born, and voicing it would probably mean that he ended up in a locked room with his shoelaces removed, so he didn’t. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to be alive, anyway. There just wasn’t any imaginable version of history where his parents came together to create him and it wasn’t a giant dumpster fire. Maybe if they’d all been taken from their families as babies – but that would have meant taking the twins from Smee, and Freddie and Celia from Dr. Facilier. Just another version of disaster.

For him, though, it might have been good. At the very least, it would have spared him this mess of feelings.

“Why can’t I just leave him behind?” he asked. “I hardly ever think of my mom, but him… why do I go crawling back like a dumb mutt asking to be kicked?”

“He’s the one who raised you, right? So there’s a deeper connection.”

“No, it wasn’t… It wasn’t milk and cookies. The only time he was ever happy with me was if I stole something particularly valuable, and then it was just, _oh, my son, who will restore me to glory_.”

“And did it feel good to have his approval?”

“It was the greatest feeling in the world.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, I’m over it. The last thing I want is to fuel his plans for world domination.”

“Rationally, you may be over it, but Jay, you weren’t created anew on this very day. You have eighteen years of lived experience that can’t just be brushed aside. Children need their parents, they need love, and if they don’t get that, they’ll go for the next best thing. Just like how a starving child will stick anything into their mouth, no matter how rancid.”

“But I have love,” he protested, tears prickling against his eyelids. “I have Gil, and my friends, and they can love me in a way he never could.”

“And that’s wonderful,” she said warmly, “but it’s not the same. They’re your peers. You may be a legal adult, but that doesn’t mean you don’t still need guidance. Do you have any… mentors in your life?”

Even after all this time, Coach Jenkins was the first to come to mind, but that was all in the past. Phil was decent enough about letting Jay bitch at him sometimes, and he could always unleash in his columns to Clio, but mentors?

“I don’t know. Not really. Are you saying if I had one, I wouldn’t feel this way?”

“Oh, you would definitely still feel this way. There aren’t any quick fixes, Jay.”

“So… what, I’m screwed?”

“Of course not. But processing these things is going to take time. You can’t just replace your dad with some other person and call it a day. Which isn’t to say that you wouldn’t benefit from more adults in your life.” She pursed her lips. “You mentioned that your friends called their parents during the party. Do you feel that they have better relationships with their parents than you do with yours?”

“Not Carlos,” he said right away. “Evie… I don’t know. It’s complicated. Mal’s mom is a lizard, so no. Then again, she seems to be patching things up with her dad. And she’s… I mean, the royal family have pretty much adopted her.”

He followed that line of thought, speaking more slowly.

“They’re all dating Auradon kids. I know Doug’s parents dote on Evie when they see her, and Fairy Godmother has always been pretty decent to Carlos. I guess it does make me a little jealous. Gil’s family isn’t much better than mine. His mom is okay, but I wouldn’t ask her for advice. Gil says that’s why he comes to you, so you can help him with Auradon stuff.” He grimaced. “Sorry. I know we shouldn’t talk about Gil.”

“You can talk about Gil all you like,” she said with a smile. “And I can talk to you about the things you tell me about him. And you and Gil can talk about _me_ all you like. Confidentiality just means that I can’t tell anyone else what a patient says.”

“Right.” He braced himself before asking, “So am I a patient now?”

“That’s up to you. I’m not about to force you through therapy. But adverse childhood experiences – things like abuse, neglect, loss of a parent – all of that can have serious health effects later in life. Physical, as well as emotional. There’s no shame in trying to mitigate that.”

“I don’t want to keep coming back and spilling my guts out to you all the time. That’s not who I am. I just want my dad out of my head, to stop feeling all these things, stop hoping that he’ll… he’ll...”

“Love you?”

“I know he can’t!” he burst out. “95% of me knows that, there’s just this tiny, stupid part that won’t listen!”

“Jay.” She leaned her elbows on her knees, holding his gaze. “I don’t know if you’ll be back or not, so I’ll give you one piece of advice. It’s not easy to follow, but it’s very, very important. Stop punishing that little Jay inside of you who wants his father. You can’t give him what he needs, but that’s no reason to treat him like dirt. Let him feel what he has to feel, and have some compassion for him. You’re strong, and determined, and those are good things, but if you hold yourself to an impossible standard, you’re only likely to cause more damage in the long run.”

Despite the lump in his throat, he had to smile at that. “You sound like Phil.”

“Why am I not surprised that he’s had to give you that speech too?” she asked, returning his smile. “You’d better listen to both of us.”

“I’ll try,” he said.

And damn it, now the tears started falling.


	15. JAY DIVES IN TO DEFEND PRINCESS IN HOT WATER

Swimming wasn’t one of Jay’s sports. He’d only known how to swim for about a year and a half, and hadn’t tried it at all after his accident, but the USA Women’s Swimming Championship was an event of public interest and even controversy this year. Clio wanted a mood piece, and so he was sent off to cover it.

Even with all the newspaper buzz, the swimming hall didn’t have the kind of crowd that came to tourney or hockey events, and the wheelchair by the end of the bleachers was easy to spot.

“Hi, Elle,” he said, making his way over. “I didn’t think this was your kind of venue.”

“Supporting the sis,” she said.

“Right.”

Princess Melody had only recently been allowed back on the swim team, after a protest against her inclusion had been through every appeal process, and on the condition that she dampened her mermaid abilities. Jay had only been reading up on her for two days, and was already irked by the rhetoric he’d seen. Judging by Elle’s defiant look, she’d been dealing with it for much longer.

A camera flash went off, and as he turned, the photographer took a bunch of other photos of them before moving on.

“Great,” Jay sighed.

“I look forward to _that_ headline,” Elle agreed. “So, want to join me down here, or will you be sitting with the rest of the vultures?”

“Actually, I’m supposed to be sitting mid-crowd, listen to what people are saying.”

She made a grimace. “You know the kind of things they’re saying, right?”

“Yeah. Kind of sucks, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Don’t I?”

She tilted her head in acknowledgement. “Maybe you do.”

Jay proceeded higher up the bleachers. While he had been switching between one and two crutches for more than a month, officially he’d only been allowed to do so since his latest PT appointment. Phil had even gone so far as to permit Jay to go without any for short distances indoors, though of course he usually didn’t bother to wear his prosthetic for those anyway. For the swimming hall, he had opted for one crutch, and while that slowed him down a little, it also meant that it was less cumbersome than usual to move past people who had already taken their seats.

The competitors entered and took their positions. From a distance, they all looked rather alike in their swim caps and goggles, with size and skin color the only discernible difference. Jay double checked his notes to find Melody’s lane number, and having found it, he scrutinized her further. Melody was taller than her sister and a little thinner, but the main difference was how she held herself, more subdued and closed off. Maybe it was just nerves at the competition itself and the hostility surrounding it. Dark silver anklets glittered above her feet: the magic dampeners. She rubbed at one of them with her toes.

When the race started, Melody was slow to enter the water, but caught up with the others by the end of the first lap. Even Jay with his limited experience could tell that her movement through the water was uncommonly natural, like she knew exactly how every part of her body would interact with the element.

She looked the way he’d felt, the first time he’d run through the kill zone.

Around Jay, people started to mutter.

“Look at that, those things aren’t working.”

“That’s mermaid magic if I’ve ever seen it.”

“Not fair on the other girls.”

During the final lap, Melody broke ahead, and finished with the runner-up barely at her hip.

The applause was brief and scattered. Soon, reporters gathered around Melody, who stood with her head hanging down, answering questions so quietly that Jay couldn’t hear it from where he was sitting.

He made his way down, only to be intercepted by Elle at the bottom of the stairs.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arm.

“Elle, I’m sorry. I’ve got to interview her, it’s part of my assignment.”

“I know. I’ll get you an exclusive, just wait.”

Jay wasn’t too keen on breaking into that circle of reporters either, so he sat back down and waited.

When the others left, Elle called out, “Melody!”

Her sister looked up and nodded, coming over. Up close, it was easier to see a few subtle likenesses between the sisters, like the shape of the chin and the way the mouth curved. Melody’s was pinched with worry.

“This is Jay, he’s a friend.”

“Hello, Jay, nice to meet you,” Melody said automatically and stuck out a hand.

“He also writes a sports column.”

Melody froze mid-handshake.

“It’s okay,” Jay said, trying to sound gentle. “I just want to ask a few questions.”

“I promised him an interview,” Elle said. “I can be there the whole time, if you want.”

According to the articles Jay had read, Melody was three years older than Elle, but Elle sounded like she was the older sister. Maybe that was just the way people in their family spoke to each other; after all, Elle’s parents had talked to her like she was a small child.

Melody didn’t protest the way Elle had, but seemed to take it as a natural thing. “You don’t have to be there. Alright. Can I have a shower first?”

“Sure,” Jay said. “Meet me in the cafeteria?”

Melody nodded and slunk off, and Jay turned to Elle.

“What are the odds of her actually showing up?”

“100%,” Elle said firmly. “She doesn’t bail on people. But I should check on her.”

While Elle went off to the ladies’ locker room to be with her sister, Jay went over to the cafeteria and ordered himself a coffee.

He had time to drink it all before Melody reappeared, in a loose-fitting peach dress. Her slightly damp dark hair now hung loose around her shoulders.

“Do you want anything?” he asked as she slid into the chair opposite his. “Coffee? Tea?”

“No. What questions did you want to ask?”

Usually, his interview subjects didn’t seem quite as much like they were standing in front of a firing squad, and he felt like exactly the kind of asshole reporter he’d been avoiding for months.

“How does it feel to be back in the water?”

“Good. It’s good. I’ve been swimming all along, even when I was banned. It helps clear my head.”

She took a toothpick from the jar on the table, and started breaking it into little pieces.

“I don’t like the anklets,” she continued, gaze focused on her task. When she couldn’t break the toothpick apart further, she arranged the pieces in various patterns. “My coach said I’d forget about them after a while, but I didn’t. I felt them the whole time. They ruined my dive.”

“Yeah, you got off to a slow start,” he agreed, “but you still won in the end.”

“Yes. It was a good race, altogether. They’re all very good swimmers.”

He hesitated before asking the next question. “What do you want to say to the people who still think you have an unfair advantage?”

“I don’t know what they want from me!” she exclaimed, looking up at him for the first time since they’d started talking. “When I’m human, I’m all human, I don’t have any special powers. Well, except talking to fish, and there aren’t any fish in the pool, and I don’t think it would help me win even if there were. I wore the anklets, so I can’t shapeshift. Not that I would anyway. I don’t cheat.”

“You don’t have any special advantages?” he asked, figuring he could ask about the fish later.

She shrugged. “I spend a lot of time in the water. So can anyone else. And when I train, I train as a human. It wouldn’t make any sense to train as a mermaid, the movements are completely different.”

“Have you tried competing against mermaids as well?” he asked.

It was only curiosity, but she seemed to take it as criticism, red flushing her cheeks.

“I have, but I can’t do it! They spend _all_ their time in the sea. It’d be like me asking my cousins to race me on land, running. Sure, they can shift their tails into legs, but they’re not used to them. If I can’t compete against humans either, where does that leave me? The only half mermaids are my family, and Rickie and Miranda are so small, it’d be me against Elle. I’m pretty sure people would say that was unfair too. Although,” she conceded, “Elle is a very good swimmer.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty much just you in a category by yourself, huh?”

“Until Rickie’s old enough. Except he’s a boy, so until Miranda’s old enough.”

“How old is she now?”

“Three.”

“Chances are you’d be out the door before she’s ready.”

“I know.” She sighed. “I really don't have any special powers. I have doctors’ notes and everything. I’m just a better swimmer.”

“Well. Sounds to me like you won fair and square.” He reached for his crutch, but paused. “What do the fish say to you?”

“All sorts of things,” she said. “Mostly, ‘Melody, what _were_ you thinking?’”

She changed her voice into what he assumed was an imitation of a particular fish, and he laughed. After a beat, she laughed too, her eyes sparkling with life, looking more like her sister than she ever had before.

“Sounds like interesting conversations,” he said and stood up. “Thank you for the interview, Princess Melody.”

She took his outstretched hand and said, “It was nice talking to you, Jay.”

This time, she sounded like she meant it.

* * *

“Is there any chance I can use the computer tonight?” Gil asked. “I’ve got some stuff to learn, and the phone is so small.”

“In a minute,” Jay said, still writing fervently.

_...Isn’t the purpose of a swimming competition to find the best swimmer no matter who that is? I’m not an expert but those who are say that Melody in her human form is just like anyone else. Just more skilled and better prepared. If you weren’t such fucking cowards you’d accept that. When I was playing tourney I was a better player because I spent most of my childhood running away from people who wanted to hurt me. With good reason sometimes. I guess I had an unfair advantage but nobody asked me to wear special jewelry to take me down a notch. If that’s not enough what would be? I guess you could always race her sister Elle and feel secure in your own fucking supremacy. Unless she ended up winning too which would be awkward as hell for you…_

“Don’t break the keyboard,” Gil said.

“I’m not breaking the keyboard.”

Gil raised an eyebrow and sat down next to Jay, who smiled despite himself.

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m a bit angry.”

“A lot angry.”

“A good thing I’ve got you to cheer me up.” He ran his hand along Gil’s back under the shirt. “I’m almost done, I promise.”

After a few more scathing sentences, he sent the column off to Clio. “Okay, done. Computer’s all yours, I’m gonna do my PT and then hit the shower.”

“That’s not fair,” Gil said, “I don’t have time to join you!”

Jay winked at him. “You can join me in bed when you’re done.”

About an hour later, when he was done with the shower, he sat down on the bed and picked up his phone. He’d only meant to kill some time on it, but there was already a text from Clio telling him to check her edits.

Frowning, he put on some sweatpants and returned to Gil in the living room.

“Hey, sorry to bother you. Can I borrow the computer again? Clio’s sent stuff back.” Seeing what was on the screen, he winced. “Ew, what’s that?”

“Liver… something. Cirrhosis,” Gil said. “I think I need to stop drinking.”

“Babe, unless you’ve got bottles of booze hidden somewhere that I don’t know about, you have to drink a hell of a lot more before you need to worry about cirrhosis.”

“I’ll be thinking of it every time now,” Gil said morosely. He handed the computer over to Jay, who checked his email.

Frowning, he asked Gil, “Could you get me my phone? I left it on the bedside table.”

Gil went to get it while Jay finished reading, and then Jay called up Clio.

“Hi!” she said. “Any notes on my changes?”

“There weren’t any.”

“Of course there were. I took out the curse words, and put in some commas – you really need to learn how to use those – and polished the language here and there.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t _change_ it.”

“I assumed that you would be alright with the column as it was, seeing how you’re the one who wrote it. Was I wrong?”

“No. But…”

“Jay. Remember when I told you that I’d let you use your passion someday? This is that day. I can’t think of a more worthy subject. Actually, I can. If you want to send in some rants about accessibility, or anti-Isle prejudice…”

“Clio, I’m not going to be your fighting champion for every issue you think would suit me.”

“Too bad,” she said. “You’d be really good at it.”

While they talked, Gil sat with the computer, reading through the text. He was still reading when Jay hung up.

“What do you think?” Jay asked after a while.

“Not done yet.”

A few minutes later, Gil looked up and smiled. “It’s more like you than any of the others.”

“Yeah? You think I’m pissed off all the time?”

“No. But you don’t stand by when people get hurt.”

Gil said the compliment as if it was really self-evident, and Jay sat back, speechless. Was that who he was now? When had that happened? It had never been on his list of things to accomplish in Auradon.

Some changes crept up on you when you weren’t even looking.


	16. JAY AND GIL CLEAR NEW HURDLES

As usual at these types of appointments, Jay sat back while Robinson measured and examined his stump, but this time, the examination ended with the technician saying:

“Okay, the size is stable. Let’s talk permanent prosthetics.”

Jay straightened instantly. “Really?”

“Yup. I got the suggestions from your friend Carlos, and of course the link to those running blades. Have you looked at any others?”

“A few. There seem to be a lot to choose from.”

“There are, but not all of them would be suitable for you. The model you have now is standard, you can keep that free of charge, and have it changed when needed. It’ll probably last you two or three years, but we’ll have an appointment every six months, just to make sure. Obviously if it breaks, you come in sooner. But you can also have a second model if you want, with 85% of the costs covered by national insurance, as long as the hospital approves the leg. Which means no clockworks, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Jay said. “So what will they approve?”

“Well, there are all sorts of models. Hydraulic, microprocessor, battery powered, more natural looking and more like the kind of blades you’ve been looking at… and of course more or less advanced versions of each. You’re young, with an athletic background, so that means you need something suited for an active lifestyle, and are more likely to get a model like that approved than someone older would be.”

“I don’t even know what some of those words mean.”

“I’ll show you, don’t worry. Now, as for the models your friend Carlos showed me… The spike I can get you, but it’s basically just a glorified pegleg, and it would be hell on softer ground. Don’t bother. The swirly web one, sure, but I’d suggest using that as a cover on a regular prosthetic. That way, it’ll still look cool, but it doesn’t have to carry your weight. 3D print it in two pieces and attach it when you feel like it.”

“So I could just use a bunch of covers with different patterns?”

“Sure. As to what you would attach them to…”

Robinson started explaining the various types of legs, and Jay did his best to keep up. Determining what would be the best model in each situation seemed impossible, though he absolutely nixed the ones that couldn’t get wet or dirty. An ankle that could move in various directions seemed great, though.

Even so, he perked up a bit when Robinson got to the running blades.

“They’re more expensive, on average,” Robinson said. “Not necessarily better for daily activities, and they each have their speciality: long distance, sprint, or quick turns. Depending on the type, you may need rear-mounted rather than distal…”

“Meaning what?”

“Whether it’s attached behind the socket or below it. Either way, and regardless of the model, you really only get full use of it after you put a _lot_ of work in. I’m talking lunges, balance, jump rope sessions, walking three to four miles in an hour. You’re not there yet. But I’ll say this about you – I think you’ll get there. And when you do, a blade will let you do more advanced athletic activities than most other models.”

“But if I choose one of those I have to wait?” Jay asked.

“No, you can get one now. You just won’t notice the perks until much later.”

Jay browsed through the various models again. The blades seemed great, but he also liked the thought of having a leg that was almost normal. Some of the covers even looked like skin from a distance. And while his current leg was sufficient for basic walking, it wasn’t built for sports. It wouldn’t hurt to have an all-round useful leg.

“Can I have both?” he asked. “The kind with a foot and the blade kind?”

“You can have as many as you want, but the hospital won’t pay for them.”

Jay sighed and made up his mind. “I want a blade.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Robinson said with a smile.

* * *

It took longer than Jay wanted for his desired blade to be ready, and he counted down the days to the next appointment. Gil rearranged his work schedule, so he could come along, and since Phil was also there, it got quite crowded in the examination room.

“Ready?” Robinson asked, wiggling his eyebrows as he put the socket on.

“He...ck yeah,” Jay said.

Seated, this leg didn’t feel much different from his other one, since it was the same kind of socket in both, but as he stood up, the material shifted under him in a new way

“Whoah.”

“First spin, take it out to the gym.”

Jay still hadn’t spent much time walking without a crutch, so he took it slowly at first, trying to get used to the new sensation. The sole of the blade wasn’t really what you’d call a foot, and in a strange way, that made it easier, as he had one less thing to consider.

“Looking good,” Phil said. “Stop hovering, Gil.”

Gil withdrew slightly from his position by Jay’s side and gave them both an embarrassed smile. “Sorry.”

They reached the gym, and Phil ordered: “Pick up the pace. See how fast you can go without stumbling.”

So Jay tried. It wasn’t what anyone would call a run, more like a quick strut around the room, but the bounce reverberated through his body and pushed him forward in a new way. It was still lopsided and took more energy than walking used to do, but he could believe that one day he _would_ be running.

“Now turn. Turn again. Give me some hops. Bit of jumping.”

Jay jumped, letting the movement flow through his body, and after a couple of attempts he got as high as he could and threw himself into a backflip, curling up around his body.

There was a shriek, a burst of laughter, and a low curse from the three people behind him, but Jay concentrated on getting his feet back under him, the false one and the real one.

He misjudged slightly, and though he landed on his left, it slid out under him and he fell back on his ass.

Gil applauded, and Robinson still had his hands pressed against his mouth, but Phil trotted forward and glared at him.

“Was that smart?”

Jay rubbed his foot. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

“I wish I thought that would keep you from pulling stunts like that for a while, but knowing you, you probably will.”

“Of course he will,” Gil said proudly. “It’s what he does.”

Jay grinned at him and stood up, which hurt more than he was willing to admit.

Robinson took his hands down. “You could have broken your neck!”

“But I didn’t,” Jay pointed out.

“Should I take the blade back? Because I will take it back if I have to.”

“No, no, no! I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be good.”

At least, Jay added silently to himself, for a few more days.

By the time they were headed out to the car, his ankle had been wrapped up and he was limping almost as much on the left as he was on the right.

“I guess I’ll have to get that crutch out,” he admitted as he got into the driver’s seat.

“Can you drive?” Gil asked. “Or do you want me to?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Though we ought to get you a license.”

Gil shrugged, and then lit up. “Hey, do you know what we ought to get _you_? A sword cane.”

“A what cane?”

“A sword cane! You know, one that you go –” Gil mimicked twisting and pulling something out “– and it’s a sword!”

Jay laughed. “We totally should! Do you know where to get one?”

“The pirates, probably.”

“Let’s get to the Isle and check, then!” Jay was about to start the car, but halted. “Wait, can I send one of the pictures you took to Carlos?”

“Sure.”

Gil handed over his phone, and Jay picked a picture to send over, with the caption: “Sorry it wasn’t one of yours. Still want your cover designs for my other model! / Jay”

Carlos sent back, “NP! Looking good, runner!”

“Not running yet,” Jay texted. “Did a backflip that scared Robinson though.”

Two thumbs up and, “Why am I not surprised? #Jayswillbejays”

Jay grinned and handed the phone back to Gil. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Auradon Prep looked much the same as it had last year, and so did the corridor outside the staff offices, with its hand-carved wooden bench that normally held either visitors, or errant students about to see the principal. Currently it held Jay, who was the first but felt like the second.

From inside the nearest conference room came muffled sounds. Gil had been allowed to take his first exam orally, which should be easier, but at times his voice took on a desperate tone, and Jay strained to hear any words, without success.

A group of boys passed by. Jay didn’t know any of them, but one of them gave him a thorough look and whispered something to the others, before stopping.

“Hey, Ibn Jafar! It’s you, isn’t it?”

The arrogant tone got Jay’s hackles up. “What of it?”

“I read that column you wrote back in January. Are the Atlanticans paying you, or are you just trying to curry favor with the princesses? I doubt either one of them would be stupid enough to marry you.”

Jay stood up. There were four of them and one of him, and he’d come unarmed, which was probably for the best – if he’d had a crutch, not to mention his new sword cane, he would have been far too tempted to use it. But these were still spoiled little rich boys with arms like spaghetti, and it was with utmost confidence that he told the one who had spoken:

“Run along now. You don’t want to mess with me.” He bared his teeth. “We Isle boys fight dirty.”

They tried to uphold their sneers, but faltered within seconds, and hurried away muttering to each other.

Jay sat back down with a sigh, grateful that the warning had been enough. As satisfying as mashing their faces into the floor would have been, it could have caused trouble for both him and Gil, and really wasn’t worth it.

Gil had worked so hard for this. Damn it, what if it still wasn’t enough? What if Dr. Liddell was wrong and Gil just couldn’t do it, or if he hadn’t had enough time, what with the hospital work and all.

It was just a test. You could always redo a test. Flunking once was no big deal.

But it would be so disheartening for him…

“Jay?”

Fairy Godmother stepped out of her office and gave him a sweet, melancholy smile. For a second, he got the urge to mash her face into the floor as well, but he quenched it and even managed to smile back.

“Oh, Jay, how good to see you again!” She reached out for a handshake and took his hand in both of hers. “How are you holding up? Carlos gives me the news, of course, and you are in my thoughts and prayers.”

“Good. I’m good. Working, you know.”

“Right, yes. I’ve read your columns, so inspiring. What are you doing here? Have you lost your report cards? It’s a bit early for college applications, but no harm in that.”

She twinkled mischievously at him.

“Uh, no. I won’t be… um, I’m waiting for Gil.”

Her face took on a solemn expression. “Oh, how lovely! I think it’s admirable, the job that young man has put into bettering himself, especially with his difficulties. Well, best of luck to both of you!”

With that, she proceeded down the hall, and Jay sank back onto the bench, swearing to himself that the next person to interrupt _would_ get beaten, and never mind the consequences.

But no one came, not until the door to the conference room finally opened and Gil stepped out, pale and wide-eyed.

“How did it go?” Jay asked.

Gil handed over the report card and said, “C plus” in a dazed voice.

Jay stared at the piece of paper just to make sure, and broke out in a wide grin at the “C+” written in the column for grade.

“Holy shit, Gil!”

He took Gil’s face in his hands, but quickly let them drop again as Mr. Deley, the science teacher, stepped out of the room.

“Hello, sir.”

“Hello, Jay. Congratulations, Gil. I’ll be seeing you again soon, I hope.” He nodded towards them both, and proceeded on his way.

“I was so nervous,” Gil said when Mr. Deley was gone. “I forgot a whole bunch of the terms, and I thought I would flunk for sure, but I didn’t.”

“C plus isn’t just not flunking. C plus is not flunking with a huge margin!”

“I still have to take more biology. And chemistry, and…”

“Yeah, but you can do it. You really can!”

Gil suddenly grinned. “You didn’t think I could before, huh?”

“I… I wanted to, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Well, as long as you’re sure now.” Gil stuck his hand in Jay’s. “Come on, I want to celebrate!”

Jay gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll buy you a cake!”


	17. JAY’S HIDDEN LIFE MAY INTERFERE WITH LADY MAL’S WEDDING

Gil put the mail on the kitchen table, and Jay sorted it through. The paper, two advertising leaflets, a bill, and four simple white envelopes. Sometimes he got letters from readers, but four was more than usual, and he hoped none of it was hate mail. He hadn’t had any death threats yet, but insults and bigotry raised his hackles even without them.

The name on one of the envelopes got his attention, and he handed it over to Gil. “This one’s for you.”

“Me? Why would anyone send me a letter?” Gil flipped it over, and his eyes widened. “That’s the royal seal.”

Jay fished out one of the remaining letters. “There’s one for me too.” He grinned. “I bet I know what it is.”

Gil grabbed a knife from the drawer and cut his envelope open, reading out loud as Jay opened his:

“‘The Lord Chamberlain is commanded by Their Majesties King Adam and Queen Belle to invite Gil Legume and guest to the marriage of His Majesty King Benjamin to Lady Mal’ – aw, that’s nice! – ‘in Auradon Cathedral, on the day of the Spring Equinox at six o’clock in the evening, with a reception at the Auradon Palace to follow at half-past seven. An answer is requested to the Lord Chamberlain, Auradon Palace, Auradon City. Dress: Semi-formal.’ What does that mean?”

“It means we need to get suits,” Jay said. “I’ll talk to Evie, see if she can arrange something.”

“Yikes. I’ve never had a suit before.” Gil contemplated that for a moment, and then shook it off. “What about ‘and guest’?”

“You can bring a date.”

“But you’re my date. Does it say ‘and guest’ on yours too?”

“Yeah.”

“So do we bring each other as dates, or are we supposed to bring two more people?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’re supposed to bring girls.” Jay frowned at the gold-inked letters, mood darkened by the thought, and then he tossed the card aside. “You know what? Screw it. We’re going together. I’m sick of lying to people. You’re my boyfriend, and if they don’t like it, that’s their problem.”

“You want to tell people we’re boyfriends?” Gil asked, sounding hesitant.

“Yes!”

“At Mal’s wedding? Can we do that? Here in Auradon?”

“I mean, it’s scandalous, or whatever. They’ll probably boo us. But since when do we care what people think?”

Gil bit his lip. “Would they send us back to the Isle?”

“No,” Jay scoffed, and then paused, deflating a little. “Fuck. I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Gil said, reaching out to put a soothing hand on Jay’s. “How do we find out?”

* * *

For the third time, Jay stepped into Dr. Liddell’s office, and this time, he sat down right away, watching her intently. Something about her was different, though he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“Welcome back,” she said. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah. I wasn’t planning on coming back.”

She gave a small shrug. “You weren’t planning on coming back after the first time either.”

“I know.” Could he trust her? She had confidentiality, which was why he’d come. But she also had the power to claim he was off his rocker, if she wanted to.

When he didn’t say anything, she prodded gently, “Have you had a chance to think about what we said last time?”

“I don’t want to talk about that!”

“Okay.”

“Listen.” He got up and started pacing the room. “There’s something I want to do, and saying it is kind of doing it, so I thought I’d say it to you first, because you can’t tell anyone. Right? You can’t.”

“Unless you’re a danger to yourself or others.”

“I’m not gonna _kill_ anyone!”

“Good to know,” she said with a smile.

The curtains. Her pants suit this time was light green, and it almost matched the curtains, which were green with a daffodil pattern. What had the curtains looked like before? He had a feeling they had been darker.

“Did you change your curtains?”

“Yes. They’re my spring curtains. Jay, what…?”

“Gil and I are lovers.”

Her expression didn’t change. “Yes?”

“You knew?” The tension sapped from his body, leaving him strangely disappointed. “Gil told you.”

“For that matter, _you_ told me,” she pointed out. “Not in so many words, but you were clear enough, last time.”

He sank back into the chair. “I was?”

“The truth is, I’ve known longer than that. Homosexuality isn’t as rare as you think.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Home of what now?”

“Homosexuality. It means to be sexually attracted to the same sex, as opposed to heterosexuality, which is to be sexually attracted to the other sex.”

“You guys have a whole-ass medical term for it?”

“It’s not medical,” she said, then hesitated and admitted, “Well, it’s not anymore.”

That sounded less than reassuring, and he crossed his arms, waiting for more.

“Back when the USA was founded, all the countries still had different laws. In some, homosexuality was considered a mental illness, in a few it was illegal, and then there were those where it was perfectly legal. When the council aligned the laws, they voted to make homosexuality legal and to strike it from the diagnostics manual.”

“Lucky me,” he said dryly. “So it can’t get me locked up, or sent back to the Isle. Then why is everyone so afraid to talk about it?”

“Attitudes change more slowly than laws. There are still plenty who disapprove. In fact, I’m not sure the law would have changed at all if Thebes hadn’t been such a strong proponent for it. Or more accurately, Olympus. You don’t tell the gods what to do.”

Jay had to laugh a little at that, imagining Zeus throwing a lightning bolt at the stuck-ups calling him crazy or illegal. If only he’d stuck around with more of those bolts.

“On the Isle, nobody gives a shit about laws or shrinks,” he said. “We just hooked up with whoever we felt like. There wasn’t a special word for it or anything – well, apart from if you were flirting with someone and wanted to know what position they liked, then you might ask if they’re a top or a bottom, a giver or receiver, things like that.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

“And you? What do you think?”

She shrugged. “After the things I’ve seen, two men loving each other doesn’t even register as a blip on the radar. And for Isle kids in particular, I would say that it’s much more a source of comfort than the reverse.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It could be for Auradon kids too, if they weren’t so scared. That’s part of why Gil and I want to tell everyone.”

Her mouth fell open, and he smirked a little at having cracked through her self-possession.

“What would happen if we did?” he asked.

She hurriedly closed her mouth and mulled the question. “I’m not sure.”

“You mean it has never happened? I heard something about a professor from Sherwood University.”

“Goodness, that must have been at least five years ago! It happens more often than that. It’s just, I don’t know if the usual ramifications would apply to you.”

“Like what?”

“Well… It would be a scandal, for sure. Some people would stop talking to you, especially among the old-school families. Others would spread rumours, or say you were ill suited for certain positions.”

“Yeah, what else is new?” he scoffed.

“Exactly. I’m not sure what the overlap is between prejudice against Isle kids and homosexual people, but at a guess, it’s considerable.”

“Especially since many of us are both. Although…” He grimaced. “I don’t know. It feels weird, you calling us that. Most of us aren’t one or the other. Gil is. I’m not. I don’t care if someone’s a boy or a girl or something else. I just happened to fall for Gil.”

“Bisexual,” she said. “In that case.”

“Okay. Whatever. So you’re saying it wouldn’t be as bad as all that? A few more people wouldn’t like me, and that’s all?”

“I think it depends on _which_ people wouldn’t like you,” she pointed out. “Professor Scarlet wasn’t officially fired. He was sent on leave for the rest of the term, and his contract wasn’t renewed. The question isn’t just, what would your friends do, but what would your employers do? Your landlords? And what protections do you have if they try to get rid of you?”

That unsettled him. Would Mr. and Mrs. Fa kick them out? He couldn’t see them doing it, but you never knew with people – and even if they didn’t, there was Mr. Darling and that Homeowners’ Association to consider. As for jobs, Clio wouldn’t be a problem. The dwarfs, maybe, but he could survive without their money, at least as long as Gil…

“Fuck,” he breathed. “The hospital. Would they fire Gil?”

She gave a helpless half shrug. “I don’t know. I would vouch for him, certainly, but it would be up to the board, and I don’t think it’s ever been tried there. He’s a temp, so he doesn’t have much in the way of job security.”

“This is fucked up,” he said, laughing in pure frustration. “You’re telling me we could lose our home, and our jobs. We could end up having to hit the road again, or move back to the Isle. And all the Auradonians like us, they cower in silence and can’t even find each other, and nothing ever changes.”

He stood up so quickly that he had to steady himself on the back of the armchair, and shook his head.

“Well, screw that. I’ll take the risk. Someone’s got to.”

“That’s admirable,” she said. “And I think you’ve forgotten one thing that could possibly work in your favor.”

“What?”

“King Benjamin is your friend, and Lady Mal will be queen after her wedding. They have the power to fight for your rights, should they choose to use it. Would they stand by you in this?”

That sounded uncomfortably like something his father would say, but he couldn’t deny the practicality of it. Besides, Mal would be a total hypocrite if she didn’t back him up. After what happened with the barrier, surely she’d learned her lesson about standing up for the Isle folks? As for Ben…

“I guess?” he said. “They already know, anyway. At least Mal does. Ben found out at the New Years party, but I’m not sure he was sober enough to remember it.”

Dr. Liddell closed her eyes for a second. “The King was at your New Years party, getting drunk.”

“Confidentiality,” he reminded her.

“Believe me, I know.”

Should he tell Mal in advance? It would probably make him a better friend than just dropping the bomb on her. And what if she said no? Maybe it would be easier to just tell a few people at a time, see how it spread and what would happen… but he’d never been the type to ease into things, and dragging this out would only make him more frustrated. Deep in thought, he tapped his fingers against the backrest, and then made up his mind.

“Alright. Yeah. We’re doing this. Thanks for the help!”

He turned to leave, and then paused by the door.

“You know,” he said, “it’s kind of funny. When you gave us your card back then, you totally wanted me to come talk to you about my leg, didn’t you? And I think we’ve been talking about everything except that.”

“Do you want to talk about your leg?” she asked mildly.

He grinned. “Nah. I’m good.”

* * *

After getting back in the car, Jay called Mal. “Hey, are you alone?”

“No,” she said. “Is it important?”

“Kind of, yeah.”

“Give me a few minutes.”

So he waited in the parking lot for about ten minutes until Mal called him back.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Would you mind if Gil and I cause a scandal at your wedding?”

“What kind of scandal?”

“We want to come clean about our relationship.”

She paused. “Come clean how?”

“Be each other’s dates. Tell everyone why. Maybe shout it into a microphone. I don’t know, I haven’t planned the details.”

“At my wedding?”

“Yes.” He grimaced. “No. No, you’re right, we shouldn’t, it’s selfish.”

“No, no, no… well, okay, yes, but… could you wait until the reception?”

“Well, yeah. What, you thought I’d do it during the ceremony?”

She gave a small sigh. “Oh. In that case, I don’t give a fuck. I just want to be married and have it done with. Believe me, if I could elope, I would.”

“Really?”

“Of course! Do you think it was my idea to have a five-course dinner party for two thousand toffs?”

“Hey, there are going to be Isle people at the party too.”

“A handful. And I won’t even get to talk to you, because of all these ceremonies and rules about who says what to whom and dances with whom, and believe me, this whole thing could _use_ a scandal. Plus, with our track record, there’s going to be _something_ disrupting the night. At least this way it won’t be someone stealing a magical artifact. Or my boyfriend.”

This plan was no guarantee against a villain attack, but he didn’t say that. He couldn’t resist teasing, “You kind of started the boyfriend-stealing.”

“I know, thanks.”

“So we’re cool?”

“I am, at least,” she said. “But Jay, are you sure? You’re inviting trouble here.”

“I know.”

“You only just got back on your feet again. I mean...”

He could practically hear her wince through the phone, and snorted.

“You’re risking a lot,” she amended.

“But I’ll have the queen on my side.”

“Jay, this isn’t funny. I’ll do my best to protect you, but if the people of Auradon decide they want you tarred and feathered, there’s only so much I can do.”

“I can hold my own.”

“You could always tell them in one of your columns, you know. It might be easier.”

“Yeah, but that’s just it. I’d never know who knew. If people were smiling at me, I’d wonder if they were genuine, or just faking it, or they hadn’t heard. This way, I get all of their reactions, head on.”

“Better look the enemy in the eye, huh? I guess that makes sense.” After a pause, she said, “I’m going to tell Ben. It’s not fair to let him go in blind, but I’ll do it, like, the same day. That way, he doesn’t have to hold the poker face longer than necessary.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he said. “Thanks, Mal. Oh, and I know we don’t usually say this, but… I love you.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” she said, and hung up.

He laughed.

* * *

“Does the tie look okay?” Gil asked, stepping into the bedroom.

Jay drank in the sight of Gil in his new suit. He’d seen it the night before, when Evie made the last alterations, but it looked even better with all the trimmings. The color was what Evie called maroon – Jay had called it brown and she had bit his head off – and it really brought out the warmth in Gil’s eyes. The shoes matched, while the tie and handkerchief were, still according to Evie, amber. It was just enough like Gil’s old pirate getup to give a sense of home even within this very foreign dress code.

Focusing on the tie, he answered honestly, “It looks great. Where did you learn to tie a knot like that?”

“On the internet,” Gil said. “What about the rest of it?”

“Hmm, turn around. Again. Stop right there. You know, I really like your ass in that suit.”

“Jay,” Gil said reproachfully over his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“I am serious. I never get tired of looking at you.”

He pulled Gil down beside him on the bed, and Gil ran a finger down Jay’s lapel. Their suits were similar, but not the same; Jay’s was in dark wine red with black details, and the tie and handkerchief were a pale yellow.

“You look great too,” Gil said, then frowned. “You haven’t put your leg on.”

“I know,” Jay sighed. “I haven’t decided which one to wear yet. On one hand, it’s a royal wedding, fancy clothes, lots of high-class people.” People who would be looking down their noses at him either way, and who would only be more insufferable with pitying stares added to the mix, but he didn’t say that. “On the other hand, there will be dancing, in which case, the blade could come in useful.”

Gil nodded. “Take the blade.”

“Why?”

“Because you like it better and it’s what you want. You’re just worried about what people will say, and tonight is about saying screw it to what people will say, remember?”

Jay grabbed him around the back of the head and kissed his forehead. “You’re too damned smart sometimes.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Gil said with a grin.

“Are you sure about this whole thing, though? I’m pretty much asking you to jump off a cliff with me.”

“I know. I’m sure.”

“It’s your job on the line more than mine.”

“And this apartment, and some of our friends maybe. I _know_.” Gil was all serious now. “You can’t first call me smart and then act like I can’t make my own decisions. If they don’t want us, I don’t want them. We’ll try our best here, and if that doesn’t work, we’ll move to Thebes or wherever.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Jay exhaled slowly and reached out to squeeze Gil’s hand. “You’re right.”

Gil patted Jay’s thigh with his free hand. “Hurry up and get ready. We have a wedding to go to.”


	18. ROYAL WEDDING DISRUPTED BY SCANDALOUS LOVE CONFESSION

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of the wedding ceremony is taken from the Swedish church standard ceremony.

Partly to calm his nerves, Jay brought the sword cane along to the wedding. He very much doubted that anyone would try to attack them, but logic didn’t work so well in his stressed mind. But there was also practicality to consider, since the cathedral had a shitload of stairs and no benches, and he wanted some energy left for the dancing at the end of the night.

As they got out of the car and approached the entrance, he figured he could at least ask an usher: “I don’t suppose there’s an elevator or something at the back?”

“There’s a ramp,” the usher said, and then added apologetically, “But the girl we took there said it was too steep, and her father had to push her.”

Jay and Gil exchanged a look.

“Elle?” Gil asked.

Jay shrugged. “Probably.”

A steep ramp didn’t sound any easier, so he tackled the stairs instead. Since there was no railing, he used the cane for balance, and even grabbed onto Gil a couple of times, but it was either that or taking the steps one at a time like a toddler. Eventually he made it up, with far too many ego-bruising offers of help from random strangers.

“It’s a really pretty church,” Gil said when they entered, looking around wide-eyed.

“I just wish it was pretty closer to the ground,” Jay said.

Another usher waved them ahead. “Ibn Jafar and Legume? To the front, if you please.” He paused and frowned slightly. “There are chairs in the vestry, do you want me to bring you one?”

“Honestly? Yes. Thanks.”

The usher slunk off, and the two of them continued to the chancel.

“You’d think they’d have more chairs in here in general,” Gil said. “Why don’t they?”

“I don’t know. To fit more people in? Or maybe they just don’t like the way it looks.”

“You can’t be the only one who finds it uncomfortable. What about people who have babies, or are pregnant, or old… is that Belle and the Beast?”

Jay followed his line of gaze to the stained glass window. “Yup.”

“They made a whole glass thingy portrait of themselves?”

“Just ‘cause they’re heroes doesn’t mean they’re not conceited as f...” Jay caught the pursed expression of an elderly Auradonian lady in a glittering tiara. “...anything.”

At the front of the crowd, Carlos was waving at them. They joined him on the bride’s side, which predominantly consisted of Isle people, while the royal parents and other nobs occupied the other side of the aisle.

Dizzy was standing with her hands pressed to her chest, watching the entrance and waiting for the happy couple to appear. Celia, on the other hand, was sitting cross-legged on the floor, telling fortunes to the Smee kids. Off to the side, Hades watched them with a cynically raised eyebrow. Two tall men in royal guard uniforms flanked him; just because he wasn’t in shackles, it didn’t mean that he was free.

“Where’s Jane?” Jay asked Carlos.

“She's the best man.”

“ _Jane_ is the best man?”

Carlos grinned. “They have known each other since they were, like, two, so she has seniority on everybody except Chad.”

“And that would be the _worst_ man. Although, how does Chad feel about being outranked by a fairy god...ling?”

“Oh, delighted, I’m sure!”

They both laughed at that.

The usher from before returned discreetly and placed a folding chair near the aisle. Jay sat down on it, only to rise again a moment later when a trumpet fanfare heralded the arrival of the bride and groom.

Ben and Mal walked in side by side, Ben in his traditional blue uniform and Mal in a strapless lilac dress with a swirling pattern of white flowers rising from the hem. Behind them came Evie and Jane, both in violet-blue dresses, like a midpoint of the bride and groom. The visual effect was striking – Evie had an eye for details.

Fairy Godmother took her spot at the front, and when the bridal couple had arrived and the music stopped, she started speaking:

“The purpose of marriage is to receive love, and to give it. When you join in matrimony, you welcome each other into your lives, and you welcome love as a gift and a mission, while striving to better your community. A life as husband and wife is a life of trust and mutual respect, in days of light and of shadow. It is to be faithful and caring to each other, to be responsible together for home and children, and to meet the future together…”

Mal looked paler and more serious than she ever had before, but also had a calm certainty about her. Ben was smiling with his whole face.

The ceremony continued, and at the next spot of music Jay sat back down. This was taking a long time, and he didn’t care much for all the pomp and circumstance, but he couldn’t deny that at the core of it, these two standing together and promising to love each other was profoundly moving. Not that he was going to cry, like Evie was. And Carlos. And – he threw an amazed glance sideways at the sound of a sniffle from that direction – Gil.

“Gil,” Jay teased him in a whisper, “are you crying?”

“No,” Gil said, affronted, and then softened. “But it is really pretty, though.”

“Yeah,” Jay admitted. He smiled, both because of his boyfriend and the couple before them. “It is.”

* * *

When they stepped into the castle, Jay mumbled to Gil, “Are you ready to scandalize some folks?”

“Can we eat first?” Gil asked. “I’m hungry, and the food here is usually amazing.”

“Okay,” Jay agreed. “Makes more sense to do it during the dancing anyway.”

In three different places on the walls, there were lists of guests, with a number after each name that corresponded to a table on the seating chart next to it. After some searching he found himself, at table two next to Celia. He had to go all the way to table five to find Gil, and was ready to be affronted, until he realized that Carlos wasn’t seated at the same table as Jane either, nor Evie with Doug. Apparently spreading people out like that was a thing.

“What’s an ostrich?” Gil asked, reading the menu.

“It’s a huge bird that can’t… wait. We’re eating ostrich? Cool!”

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t looking to get kicked out before dinner was over.

When the ostrich arrived as the third course, it turned out to be a lot more like steak than he had expected. It was still plenty luxurious enough for his tastes, especially with the cooking skills of the palace chef.

As for Celia, she was so delighted by the food that she didn’t try to peddle her fortune telling until they were waiting for dessert. She started with the portly nobleman on her right, fleecing him for a dollar and promising him a bright future, and then turned to Jay.

“Pick a card,” she told him, holding them out as a fan.

He rolled his eyes, but pointed towards a card, and she gasped in delight as she shoved the rest of the deck away.

“Oh, this is an exciting one!” she said, holding her left hand out palm up.

“Celia, I’m not giving you money,” Jay said.

“It’s a celebration,” she told him. “Splurge a little!”

To indulge her, he dropped a coin in her hand, and she turned the card around triumphantly.

“A dark lady comes to bring you love, happiness, and _loads_ of money.”

He snorted with laughter. “I think you’re a little off there. Unless you’re the dark lady? In which case I’m sorry, but you’re a bit too young for me.”

“I didn’t say it was me! I don’t have loads of money.” She gave him a pointed smile. “Yet.”

“And you never will if you keep lying to your customers.” He held up the coin that he’d surreptitiously taken back from her pocket. “Good thing I know how to get a refund.”

Her shout of outrage was so funny that he flicked the coin back to her. “All right. Here’s for making me laugh.”

The dinner drew to a close, and the Lord Chamberlain rose to speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the bride and groom to have their first dance as a married couple.”

Mal and Ben took the floor, waltzing through the room in solemn bliss, seemingly unaware of the crowd.

A few tunes later, when the dance floor opened to all the wedding guests, Celia scarfed down the last of her lemon elderflower cake and held out her hand to Jay. “Dance?”

All the Auradonian men did seem to ask the ladies on their right, and Jay didn’t want to disappoint the little girl, so after a brief glance in Gil’s direction, he took Celia’s hand and suppressed his sigh with a smile. “Sure.”

While Jay wasn’t quite up to his old standards yet, this ballroom stuff was pretty easy, and Celia was a good enough dancer to hold her own. Her bubbly personality also helped make the dance enjoyable.

At the end of the song, she gave a small curtsey, said “Thanks!” and skittered off to be with her friends.

Jay started making his way across the room, trying to find Gil again, when he noticed Elle sitting with her chin in her hands. She looked immensely bored, and not at all engaged in the conversion that the two elderly gentlemen sitting next to her were having.

Now that he thought about it, he’d seen her there during the previous dance too, and he changed his course to her table, frowning.

“Hi,” he said. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

Elle gestured to her table partner and his friend. “Professor Porter, Monsieur Hautecourt, this is Jay. Jay, Professor Porter and Monsieur Hautecourt.”

“What?” said the professor – who, at eighty or so, was the younger of the two. “Yes, yes, lovely.”

“Hello, young man!” said Monsieur Hautecourt chirpily, and then returned to the conversation.

“So that’s why,” Elle explained to Jay.

“Well, there’s no rule saying you have to stick with them all night, is there?” Jay asked. “Sir, I’m stealing your lady. Hope you don’t mind.”

With that, he extended a hand to Elle, and they joined the other couples on the dance floor.

Jay had never tried to do formal dancing with anyone in a wheelchair before, so Elle mostly ended up leading him, directing him on which ways to move, when to turn her around, and when to let go of her hand so she could spin on her own. After a while, they got into the rhythm of it.

“Mind if we dance a little closer to the Lord Chamberlain?” she asked. “He’s under the misconception that I can’t dance, that’s why he’s always sticking me with geriatric table partners. And Mom and Dad do nothing to dispel him of that notion, because they don’t want me hanging around unsuitable boys. Which is every boy, so far.”

Jay followed her to the corner she indicated. “Would they be happier if you hung around girls?”

“You know, I’m tempted to try and see,” she said wryly.

“And your sister? Does she get to hang around unsuitable boys?”

“Melody?” Elle laughed a little. “If she hasn’t escaped to the garden by now I’d be amazed. She hates crowds.”

“Sounds like this night was set up to be a bust for both of you, then.”

Jay finally caught sight of Gil again, and as their eyes met, he mouthed _next dance_. Gil shrugged, nodded, and turned to Uma, asking her to dance.

Elle had followed the little charade and raised her eyebrows. “What was that about?”

“Oh. Well… We were going to tell people. About us.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously? Like, everybody? Right here?”

“Yeah, but… it can wait.”

“Jay.” Her voice was very stern, though she was smiling. “Are you chickening out?”

“What? Of course not! You looked like you needed a dance partner, that’s all.”

“Oh, so this is a pity dance? Is that what you’re doing? You’re pity dancing with me?”

“No! No. I wouldn’t do that.”

Her smile widened, and she nodded towards Gil and Uma. “We could just ask to cut in. Switch partners. Find out what my parents would think about me hanging around unsuitable girls.”

It was a tempting suggestion, though there was a rather obvious catch. “Unsuitable might be an understatement, as far as your parents are concerned.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” she said with wolfish glee.

“Looking to give them a heart attack, huh?”

“My mom ran off to land when she was younger than me. Melody almost cost grandpapa his throne once. I think I have earned a little rebellion.”

She pushed through the crowd, which parted to give her so much room that Jay quickly found that the most efficient way for him to walk was right behind her, like a boat behind an icebreaker.

Gil and Uma noticed and met them partway, looking curious, just as the tune ended and the next one was about to begin.

“Hey,” Jay said. “We thought we’d cut in.”

Elle held out a hand to Uma. “May I?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Uma said, taking it.

Gil stepped into Jay’s arms without a word, and as the next dance started, they waltzed together in silence for a minute.

“Are you ready?” Jay asked.

“More ready than I’ve been for anything in my whole life. So, how are we doing this, exactly? Should we shout it out, or just be really obvious, or…?”

There was a loud shriek from the edge of the dance floor, and Queen Ariel came rushing through. “Elle! What are you _doing_!?”

Even though the orchestra kept playing, part of the dance floor was in disarray. People watched and whispered as the queen kept shouting and pulling at her unrepentant daughter, who had put the stoppers on her chair so as to not be torn away from Uma. The two of them were still trying to dance, no more minding the queen than a persistently buzzing fly.

Jay chuckled a little. “Looks like the girls are stealing our thunder.”

“Do you want to wait a little longer?” Gil asked. “‘Cause, having you this close, I kind of just want to kiss you.”

His eyes held Jay’s with such tenderness that they were impossible to look away from. All those things Fairy Godmother had said during the ceremony could really be summed up into one thing, and it was this, right here. Their home in each other.

“What do you say we up the ante?” Jay asked. “Give them something real to talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Will you marry me?”

Gil frowned. “Can we do that? I thought Auradon didn’t allow it.”

“They don’t.”

“I guess we could do it on the Isle. Harry’s dad could officiate.”

“Okay, Harry’s dad is _not_ officiating our wedding.”

“Or Uma. But I’m not sure Isle marriages count anywhere else…”

“Gil. You’re missing the point.” Jay stilled and put both hands on Gil’s shoulders. “It’s not about the wedding. It’s about all that stuff Mal and Ben promised to do. Sharing a life. Loving each other forever. Do you want that?”

“Well, _yeah_ ,” Gil said, like it was obvious. “I was going to do that anyway.”

Jay pulled him in and kissed him, deeply, closing his eyes so he could revel in the sensation of Gil’s lips on his, Gil’s hand in his hair and the other one wrapped around his waist.

Around them, people gasped, muttered and mumbled. There were even some louder exclamations of shock or offense.

When they broke off the kiss, Jay took Gil’s hand and raised it to the ceiling in a gesture of victory.

“We just got engaged!” he shouted.

Gradually, the consternation spread throughout the room. Even Queen Ariel broke off her tirade and stared.

From the high end, Mal gave a loud cheer, and started applauding. At this, the orchestra did stop playing, in a confused jumble of noise.

Jay’s eyes drifted to Ben, who was looking a little uncertain, but yes, he was applauding too. So were their Isle friends, though their expressions ranged from Evie’s enthusiastic squeeing to Uma’s cynical smile.

As for the Auradonians, Elle and Lonnie were both applauding. Jane stood stupefied, but Carlos put an arm around her, taking her hands and gently clapping them together. She looked up across her shoulder at him, her face begging him to explain what was going on. Doug, in the orchestra, had lowered his trumpet and was blinking like an owl.

Most of the others seemed similarly dazed, elder King and Queen included, but there were also some scattered examples of outrage and disgust. Not as many as Jay would have thought beforehand, though the Lord Chamberlain came at them like a little turbo cannonball.

“How dare you?” he roared. “And at a royal wedding! I don’t know what sort of venue you think this is, young man…”

“It’s fine. It’s fine,” Jay said. “Don’t worry, we’re leaving. Although…”

He took Gil’s hand and strode up to the bridal couple, giving them his best bow.

“Your Majesties,” he said. “My warmest congratulations, and apologies for the disruption.”

“Oh, pfft!” Mal said. “This is small potatoes compared to previous disruptions. Delicious small potatoes, at that!”

She pulled him into a hug and then pushed him towards Ben, who shook his hand awkwardly while Mal greeted Gil.

“Congratulations to you too, I suppose,” Ben said slowly.

“Thanks.” Jay glanced in Gil’s direction. “I sort of made a promise to my man there. Will you help me keep it?”

Ben blinked. “I… I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask for. It’s going to be hard enough with all of _them_.” Jay gestured with his head towards the Auradonians, who seemed to have gathered their wits and at least in some cases decided that they needed to put a stop to this.

The cameras were also starting to flash, though they mostly got Jay’s and Gil’s backs as the two of them hurried out a side door to the garden.

“Well, that’s as public as we could possibly make it,” Jay said, putting his arms around Gil again.

“Great success,” Gil agreed and kissed him.

Another camera flash went off from one of the windows, and Jay rolled his eyes.

“I guess it’ll be even more public tomorrow,” he said. “I should call Clio. Fair is fair.”

He fished up his phone, other arm still around Gil, and was met with Clio’s voice almost instantly.

“Jay. I hear you’re having fun at the wedding.”

“What, you heard already?”

“No, I don’t have any actual reporters covering a royal wedding and giving me updates during the night. Why would I do that?”

“Well, if you have photographers you might as well send them out here.”

“Noted. And I’ll give you 2000 dollars for a tell-all exclusive column by midnight.”

He groaned. “Clio, it’s late! I have an engagement to celebrate. I’ll give you one tomorrow night.”

“Then the price is down to 1500 and I want a brief statement right now.”

“A statement, huh?” He looked Gil into the eyes and smiled. “I, Jay of the Isle, love Gil Legume with all my heart, and want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

“Can I say one too?” Gil asked.

“Tell him yes,” Clio said, and Jay nodded.

Gil leaned in closer, eyes still on Jay. “I, Gil Legume, love Jay of the Isle just as much, and I’m staying with him forever. Oh, and can I say hi to my mom?”

Clio laughed. “You kids are too adorable. Congratulations, then. And stay put, the photographer’s on his way.”

“Noted,” Jay said, and hung up. He asked Gil, “How do you feel about enduring another photo?”

“I’d endure anything for you,” Gil said.

Jay grinned, shifting his stance a little for comfort – and then his face dropped in annoyance with himself. “Damn! I forgot my cane in there!”

He considered going back into the hornet’s nest, until a polite cough from the ground made him look down.

Dude dropped the cane and wagged his tail.

“I’m _very_ good at fetching things!” he said proudly.

Gil crouched down to cuddle him, and Jay just laughed.

“Yes, you are!”


	19. JAY OF THE ISLE: GIL IS MY LOVER

By now, all of you know what happened at the royal wedding reception. I declared my love for (and engagement to!) Gil Legume.

The timing can be discussed, and no doubt will be, but it served to get the word out. I’ve lived with this wonderful guy for ten months. Four of them were on a boat, with no one to answer to but ourselves. The past six have been in Auradon, trying to hide our love, and I’m sick and tired of lying. Auradon taught me to value truth and integrity. It’s time I live up to that.

I love Gil. These months after my accident have been hard, but without Gil, they would have been unbearable. I wasn’t raised to care for people, but here in Auradon, I have learned to open my heart to those I would call family: my friends, and my lover.

Yes, our love includes sex, and yes, it matters. It matters because we are not alone. Far from it. Some would say it’s just deviant Isle kids, but there are people like us in Auradon too, people who sometimes can’t even find each other and are miserable because of it. People who need to be set free.

Ever since I first came to live in Auradon, it has been hammered home how different I am, but the truth is, I’m really not.

_Isle kid_. That used to be the first thing people knew about me. Hoodlum, thief, player, hopelessly messed up by my upbringing. As I’ve been reminded, though, before our parents hurt us, they hurt you. You were once the street rats, the drudges, the outcasts. When you’re dealing with us, as rough and vulgar as we might seem, you’re dealing with those parts of yourselves that you tried to hide away and forget.

Believe me, I understand the impulse, but I’m asking you to brush off those old memories and use them to understand us in return.

Of course, in the past six months there’s another word that’s been used to describe me. A word I’m still struggling with. Disabled.

That word brings a whole different attitude from people. A lot of sympathy, usually well meant, but drenched in pity. _How awful that this could happen! What a tragedy, the things Jay can’t do!_ I could live without that.

Listen. Yes, it’s rough sometimes, even now that I’m relearning a lot of the stuff I thought I’d lost. But the roughest part was never what I couldn’t do – it was the stuff I _could_ do if all that sympathy came with practical actions.

Hospital staff has been great, for the most part, and I appreciate the level of healthcare I get here. I couldn’t have dreamed of it on the Isle. Outside of the hospital is another matter. Would it kill you to put in an elevator in the cathedral? Add some benches while you’re at it. Get some accessible bathrooms at the ACU stadium. (Seriously, this isn’t the first time I’m asking!) Building new student dorms is great, but rebuild the old ones too, so my friend Elle can visit her friends. Maybe then she wouldn’t say “historic” like it’s a curse word.

While I’m on the topic of people other than me: Teach dwarf kids self defense at the same age you teach tall kids. You never know when they might need it. Make sure that kids from the Isle who didn’t do well in school find out about the adaptive teaching tools you use here in Auradon. You may take them for granted, but they’re a whole new world to some of us.

I can hear you muttering now that I’m getting off the subject. What about the lurid love affair?

It’s not that lurid. My happy ending is a guy, that’s all. We met on the Isle, realized in Auradon that we liked each other’s company, and spent a long journey falling in love. Pretty standard stuff. I don’t even know why it should be so outrageous.

It’s funny, my friend Evie was raised to believe that she had to marry a prince, and when she came to Auradon, people were so keen to tell her that she didn’t have to marry anyone, and if she did, a sidekick would do just as well. They told her that the other way of thinking was restrictive and unfair.

Well, is it any less restrictive and unfair to say I can’t marry my man?

Auradon parents, again, I’m asking you to think back at how many of you were told, oh no, not _him_! Not _her_! Remember what you felt, and don’t deny anyone else their happy ending, whether it’s a man, or a woman, or someone else, or more than one person, or no one at all.

More importantly, to everyone reading this who is bisexual like me, or homosexual, or some other -sexual that I’m sure the psychologists have a word for even if I don’t: You are not alone. You don’t have to keep quiet. Talk to someone you trust, and if there’s no one you can trust, talk to us Isle kids. Believe me, none of us will be shocked.

To Queen Mal and King Ben, thank you for being so gracious about me causing a scandal at your wedding. You’re good sports. Please stay good sports and back me up. I have a feeling I will need it.

To Clio, I guess today I’m the champion you asked for. Thanks for the job, and all the commas you put into my columns, and for letting me decide what I want the world to know. Czernobog knows you had enough material for a dozen scandalous articles before this one.

To Gil, whatever comes ahead, you are always, always worth it.

Carlos, Evie, all my friends… I’m grateful to Auradon for a lot of things, but most of all for teaching me to say how happy I am that you’re in my life.

This is getting way too sappy. I promise there will be more sports in my next column.

Signing off,

Jay


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